


A touch of Gray

by LittleAngelCassie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, BDSM, Dom/sub Play, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 08:29:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 45
Words: 74,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2184849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleAngelCassie/pseuds/LittleAngelCassie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Smith/Wesson AU inspired by the wincest fan video "Fifty Shades of Grey" by snowzlj.  <br/>Please note the author has taken a healthy and consensual approach to the BDSM lifestyle.  </p><p>In case you want to watch it:<br/>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xu738HAonJ4</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my lovely and fabulous Editor and Beta - heytheregreeneyes.
> 
> To all who enter please note this is only the beginning....

The day had been exhausting with too many emotions swimming to the surface, and Dean just wanted to wash it off. He was sitting on the edge of his tub staring into oblivion. The bathroom was large and grossly overdone in marble and stone. He had lived in the penthouse for almost a year and still had done nothing to change the décor from the previous owner. It was clean and functional, and that was good enough for him. Turning on the shower he made sure it was hot, almost to the point of burning his skin. God he hated his job with such an undeniable disgust; yet, being the CEO of your own company came with certain perks. Money was definitely high on the list, but lately even that was just sitting in the bank. When he started the interactive first-person shooter software company with his partner, Ash, neither of them knew how big it was going to get. The software design and the follow up accessories were state of the art for which they aptly named, Demon Hunter. The day the company went public, just over six years ago, should have been a highlight of his life it was not.

Dean rolls his shoulders as the young exec steps into the steamy flow of water, letting it pound and drift down his skin. He shuts his emerald green eyes, desperately trying to calm his aching heart. Today was a massive success to his career which should have left him at least a tad cheerful. The company broke the one billion mark, but it meant nothing to Dean. The one individual in the world he wants to share it with is gone. Two months after Demon Hunter went public, Ash lost his battle with cancer leaving Dean alone to run a business he didn’t want, and a bed that was empty. 

It took all of Dean’s resolve to scrub down, quickly retreating from the shower before his entire self washed down the drain. As he gradually toweled the droplets from his muscular body, he glanced at himself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. Working in the video game industry allows Dean the luxury of not having to wear a suit and tie everyday to work. Although, most days he does wear the classic business attire just to remind the staff who is the boss. He notices the scruff building deep and heavy on his face. He can’t even recall the last time he shaved. Another great perk to being the top dog is no one comments when the facial hair starts to get out of control.  
He’s just wrapped the fluffy white towel around his waist when he hears the familiar song, “Smoke on the water”. It takes less than a second for him to register that it’s his ringtone as he dashes to the bedroom to retrieve the phone. He hastily answers the phone only glimpsing at the caller ID.

With a deep eye roll he waits for the inevitable, “Ellen I’ve had a bad day can I call you tomorrow?”

In a low whiskey-strained voice she doesn’t even try to hide her concern, “Hell no, you can’t call me tomorrow. I know this week is the anniversary of his death and I will be hog tied before I let you spend it alone. Now do I need to send a car or are you driving over to the club?”

Dean reminds himself for the millionth time that she means well. Ellen was Ash’s aunt, and the one person who supported their business and personal aspirations. It wasn’t until his death bed that Ash’s parents ever acknowledged Dean, but not Ellen she loved them both from day one. She is the only person who may miss him more. He is suddenly aware that he is holding his breath. Exhaling slowly before speaking, “It’s too much Ellen. I don’t have it in me to visit the club this week. I’m always nervous about Cas.”

She cuts through his speech fast and hard, “Bull shit! You and Cas split over a year ago; he is doing just fine, let’s find someone to help ease the pain.” There is a pause, but only so Dean understands that he will never win this battle. “Now are you driving or will you need a ride for tonight?”

Dean rubs the thick scruff on his face trying to find a way out. Ellen, God bless her, just waits patiently. He can hear her lighting a cigar and puffing when he relents, “I will drive myself.”

“Good. I will see you in an hour or heaven help me I will send Michael to collect you.”

The last thing Dean wants is for Ellen to send one of her goons to ride his ass all the way to the club. “Got it, one hour.” He disconnects before she starts another conversation about moving on to a permanent arrangement.

*****

Exactly fifty-five minutes from the second Dean ended the call, he pulls into the valet line at Ellen’s club, “The Rode House”. Thursday’s are a busy night so the queue will take a few minutes giving Dean a moment to pull himself together. The Rode House has three levels and is legendary in the Dallas club scene as well as the more discrete BDSM community. It’s placed in the warehouse district off of I-35. The club has been here since Dean was a teenager back when he and Ash were in high school together. 

Without warning there is a tap at his window sending a wave of shock through Dean. He cuts off the engine to the silver Aston Martin, allowing the valet to open the door for him. He should have known that Ellen would have the staff on high alert for his arrival. The second Dean is out of the car the valet kid, 18 at best, is giving his sharpest grin, “Mr. Smith, Good Evening. Welcome back to The Rode House.”

Reluctantly, he tosses the keys, “Scratch my car, I will end you.”

That wipes the smirk of his pretty little face. A measure of enjoyment builds as he walks over to the old school red velvet rope. The line to get in looks to be at least a 100 people deep, but the doorman doesn’t even pause before releasing the clasp and giving Dean a seamless entry. There are times when the door crowd can get riled up over those who don’t stand waiting for entrance. Dean knows part of keeping them at bay is to dress the part. He has a white button up shirt crisp and perfect with the top two buttons undone. His gray slacks and designer dress shoes make him practically mouth watering and he knows it.

The first floor is just your run-of-the-mill dance club. The music is loud as the lights strobe from horribly bright, to the blackest of night. Dean waits for his eyes to adjust as he tries to scan the club. The two long bars run parallel to the room, with circular dance floor in the middle. A raised DJ box sits at the northern side of the room. The décor is eclectic with varying shades of red and maroon.

Swiveling to the left, he strolls over to the black velvet rope, which gives entry to the second level. Once again the rope is magically gone before he even needs it to be. Taking the steps two at time Dean spots her before she sees him. Ellen has her back to the stairs while she talks to her second in command, Anna. Dean has wondered about those two his whole life, but was educated very quickly that there are some things you just don’t ask.

It’s Anna’s face that gives away his presence as her eyes smolder scanning down his body. She takes a moment to drink him in before tossing her red hair, strutting back to the bar. Ellen turns, grabbing Dean’s wrist, pulling him into her bosom for a tight hug. A stillness comes across him as he realizes the lack of human contact in his life.

His eyes do a sweep of the room. In reality it’s just a smaller version of the one below, except the rules are very different. These are the clients, not customers, and they are in different stages of dress: ranging from designer suits to maybe a thong and tassels. There is only one bar at the far end of the room. To his left is the slightly raised black box stage. It’s currently empty but Dean knows that on a Thursday it won’t be for long. The music is just piped in from downstairs but it’s quieter allowing for conversations and other social niceties. The dance floor is replaced with several couches all facing different directions. Everything is draped in black from curtains to carpet, save the white elevator doors that are the only access to the top floor, located to the left of the bar. There are no strobes here, just a few dim lights giving the room a shadowy appearance.

Ellen takes his hand as they amble over to the simple black door on the opposing wall to the elevator. 

Once the door is shut and they each take a seat on an oversized leather chair Ellen smiles, “I’m glad you came tonight, Dean.”

A tremble runs through his body as the memories of this place tear through his mind. “I’m not sure I can stay Ellen. This is just …..” The words are caught in his throat as he sees the photo of him and Ash at graduation. Panic is setting in and Dean’s eyes go wild.

It literally takes Ellen smacking him on the cheek to break the building anxiety. “I have to go.”

Dean rises from the chair as Ellen barks out to him, “I have someone for you and not a professional.”

The comment stops his breath cold. He is at a loss for words, unable to even comprehend the thought that she has arranged a meet for him. He’s been working with professionals ever since Cas, not in a hurry to have emotions get involved. His response is barely a whisper, “I’m not ready, not today.”

“Sit down Dean.” He obediently follows her command as she rises to pour them both a scotch. “You need a consistency in your life Dean. Paying for whoever is open that evening needs to stop. You have studied long enough. It’s time to step forward and be the master. The one thing I promised Ash before he went to the big bar in the sky is to look after you. Don’t make me a liar.” 

Dean takes the scotch when she offers it to him. Tossing it down his throat letting the liquid burn all the way down to his stomach, “Look, you matched me to Cas, and for that I will always be grateful, but we both know that I am bad luck. I won’t take another man down with me.”

Ellen steps into his space, letting her fingers trace his chin before grasping it tight. “Ash was not your fault and neither was Cas. We both know that. You require this like most the world needs air. Trust me.”

Dean’s eyes fall to the lush crème carpeting of her office. His resolve to leave dwindling with every second, but she still makes a final plea, “Please Dean just one session. You can’t live up in your white tower all alone.”

Finally his eyes lift to meet hers, “How much does he know about me?”

Ellen sighs as she views the change in Dean. Rushing back to her desk she pulls out her famous red book flipping through its many pages before settling down on one. “I have given him my normal run down of events. His STD test results are up to date, and I know that yours are as well. He has a few bolded items that we can go over, but I think the one-session contract I have on file should be fine. Do we need to have a more elaborate one drawn up?” Ellen’s eyebrows rise slightly as a hopeful twinkle sings in her voice.

A tiny grin reaches Dean’s face. That’s the shrewd business woman he has respected and mirrored his life after. “No, I think for one night that will work just fine.”

Ellen just nods as she pushes the papers over for him to study and sign. Nearly two hours later the legal stuff is completed Dean stands, heading for the door, then pauses because this is his first time without having to pay for a submissive. He stops his hand lingering over the door knob, “Do I just sit out there and wait to see if he accepts me?”

He can hear the puff of a cigar before he smells the comforting scent, “Just sit that sultry sexy ass of yours at the bar he will accept you. Just don’t forget to look all dominant and shit.”

Dean turns back with a sensation of excitement starting to take root in his gut, “Does he have a name?”

Ellen shuffles a few papers before she catches Dean’s eyes, “Sam Wesson, happy hunting.”


	2. Chapter 2

Sauntering gradually to the bar, Dean realizes he has no idea how to look all dominant and shit. God, this is so much easier when you pay for it. His shoulders slump a little as he reaches his destination, nodding at the bartender. A minute later, an ice-cold beer is placed before him. Dean takes a deep, long swallow of his favorite draft, winking at the server. He leans his lanky body against the dark wooden surface, his back to the room. He lets the alcohol from the scotch, and now the beer, drown his nerves. In all honesty if this doesn’t work out, he can just go home. 

The crowd resting upon the couches suddenly claps, Dean turns to face the stage curiously. There is no surprise on his face when he notices who Ellen has booked. Crowley and his little demons are a hugely popular act. Tonight it seems Mr. Crowley has his ladies strung up from the rafters with exceptional rope work. Dean is not a fan of the acclaimed King of Hell, but he does have his talents. The two girls are swinging from the ceiling maybe five feet from the ground. The rope artistry is so elaborate it stretches throughout their completely naked skin. Both of them are spread eagled with all the fuckable holes open facing the audience. Dean shivers. He hasn’t touched one of those since Rhonda Hurley in the 10th grade. 

He is lost in memories of pink satin panties when a heavy handed finger taps his shoulder. Dean almost spews his beer when he sees the tall stunning man before him. With no regard for manners he lets his gaze drag up the super stretched legs to a stomach that is so cut it could slice a person’s tongue. The tasty treat before him has done well with dark skinny jeans and a white t- shirt that clings to a wide chest, with powerful shoulders rippling with muscles. Yes, all of these aspects are amazing, but what starts the tingle down Dean’s skin are the most delicate puppy dog hazel eyes. 

The towering gentleman, dude the guy could easily be over 6’5’, nodded to the floor show, “I hope you’re not into that?”

It takes a second for Dean to find his voice, “What? Rope play?”

The puppy eyes smile as his mouth follows suit, “No, what’s between the twine.”

He takes a long sip, finishing his beer, nodding to the bartender for a second, “Oh hell no, I haven’t been interested in that since before I finished puberty. You?”

A cascade of luscious dark shaggy hair flops with his head as he shakes it, “No, I have never been…..” He shrugs his shoulders and blushes sending Dean’s arousal into overdrive. Adjusting his suddenly awake crotch Dean prays that this immaculate person before him is the Sam Wesson.

The electricity between them is palpable, and before Dean can respond his beer arrives, “Would you like a drink?”

“Sure, whatever you’re having.” His eyes hit the floor and Dean knows this is a beautiful show puppy he really wants to play with over and over.

Every part of the CEO’s body wants to rip those binding clothes from his new obsession, yet he knows the rules. So Dean flashes him the million dollar grin with a wink before letting his eyes return to the stage.

It works the other man has to grasp the side of the bar to keep from falling to his knees right there in the public space. Once he’s put himself together he extends his hand to Dean, “Hi, I’m Sam Wesson. Can I assume you might be Dean Smith?”

Dean puts his beer down so he can properly take the other man’s hand. Once their fingers enclose together they shake for but a second, leaving their hands linked for several beats after that. Dean is the one to pull his hand away replacing the empty feeling with his moist glass. Their shared eye contact still hasn’t broken as Dean responds in a dark gruff voice, “Yes, the one and only.”

Sam’s beer appears and those soft long fingers grasp the wet surface raising it up to those lickable lips. Dean finds himself lost in lustful thoughts about that mouth. However, he turns back to the little demons as they discover ways to touch themselves and each other despite the harsh twine biting their flesh.

He glances over to see Sam taking his own moment to ogle Dean’s body. Sam is hunched over the bar something that Dean will need to fix later. Taking the open opportunity Dean leans over allowing a slow controlled puff of air to blow across his delicate ear lobe. Sam’s entire body quivers under his soft breath. Keeping his voice low and his breathe strong, “What do you like Sam?”

It is thrilling to Dean as the other man’s fists curl into balls of hunger. Sam’s eyes remain on the countertop of the bar as he replies in a wispy tone, “You.” 

The answer sends Dean into a full hard on as he tries to calm the rushing of blood from his head. He finds his center glimpsing through his long eyelashes, “How should we get to know each other better, Sam?” He winks on the other man’s name which is brilliantly seductive as Sam slips his hand over Dean’s. 

“I’m ready for Heaven Dean.”

Dean closes his eyes as he offers a prayer to any angel listening. This beautiful drink of water is ready to play, Jesus please don’t let me fuck this up. Gently squeezing Sam’s hand he flashes a wicked grin, “Heaven it is my sweet baby boy.”

The CEO leans forward catching the server’s attention, he knocks on the bar three times and a minute later is handed a white room key. 

Heaving Sam into his space as their hips meet, “Moment of truth brown eyes, any limits beyond the ones in your contract?”

Dean continues to hold his right hand so Sam lifts the other cupping Dean’s chin running a finger nail over the heavy scruff. “No sir.”


	3. Chapter 3

Their hands remain firmly attached as Dean leads Sam over to the white elevator doors. The two bouncers raise their hands halting Dean from his quest. Dean flashes the white key and the large muscular African American man they call Raphael pushes the up button. Once the doors swoosh open, the burly men step aside and Dean enters with his prize.

After the doors shut, Dean grabs the man’s shirt, dragging those lips to his own. His intention was a quick chaste smack to wet their appetites, but suddenly Sam’s musky smell is changing that. Dean shoves the larger gentleman into the wall of the elevator gasping into a deep long luscious kiss full of teeth and desire. When the doors swish open revealing the top floor, Dean struggles to separate himself from Sam.

They step out into the sparkling white hallway with their hands still locked. The third floor is nicknamed Heaven for several reasons. The most obvious is the fact that everything you can see is bright white from the tile floor to the ceiling. The only touch of color, are the gold numbers attached to the handful of doors. Dean glances at the key before handing it to Sam. “We are in room 4. Go inside, strip, light three candles, and I want you on all fours with your ass facing the door, understand?”

He can hear the shudder in Sam’s voice, “Yes sir.” 

Dean takes Sam’s chin into his hand. He meets his eyes with a serious and frighteningly focused stare, “Remember the safe word?”

“Lawrence”. 

“Good. You will use it whenever you feel the need. Do you understand?”

Sam gradually nods, his eyes still holding Deans.

The men finally release their hold on one another, heading in different directions. Sam struts down the corridor while Dean pivots to face the one door without a number on it. He places his finger on the access pad and the door slides away granting him entrance. This is the Dom locker room. The subs will undress in the play area but Dom’s need a space to prepare. He hastily finds his locker pulling it open as he removes his street clothes. On the bottom of his locker lay a variety of jeans. All different styles and fits maybe about a dozen in all. At first he grabs the pair on top but then pauses when a faint thought occurs to him. He tosses the jeans back on the pile before grazing his fingers down them stopping at the last pair. These are special to Dean, he has never worn them himself but tonight it just feels right.  
He tugs the well worn material over his naked body. This pair has to be twenty years old at least; button fly with rips spread everywhere. Trying to calm himself he runs his palms up the sides before buttoning all but the top.

***

The entire stroll to the room, Dean is taking deep long breaths, reminding himself that they both want this. Out of the corner of his eye he sees the shiny gold 4. His cock goes hard just from the expectation for what is waiting inside. The door is just slightly ajar. Sam’s given the last sign that he is ready to be Dean’s. Before entering, the CEO reminds himself that this should be just a soft introduction, maybe some petting nothing to intense. Stick to the basics, Dean, and everything should go well.  
When the door swings wide Dean’s breath is caught in his throat. Every muscle in his body goes hard at the glorious sight before him. Sam has followed his every demand to perfection; the most amazing is his deliciously round ass open in the air facing him. The last thought of his before the door is shut, “Fuck the basics.”

Dean crosses to the back which holds endless cabinets and drawers. He opens a few until he finds what he wants tossing them to the floor. The room is large and spacious. It continues the pure white décor with accents of red. The center of the room has a circular red gel mat for ease on the knees. Dean is thankful because he plans for Sam to be down there for quite some time. The items land just in Sam’s view but like a good boy he hasn’t moved a muscle. Dean continues to brusquely move around the room, prepping it for the scenario in his mind. He has so many ideas, but again, he needs to make this about Sam. Once he feels everything is in place, he approaches that beautiful ass. He places his fingers on the tip of Sam’s ass crack, then reluctantly grazes his fingers up the man’s spine. His skin immediately blossoms with goose bumps chasing his digits.

Dean removes a blindfold from its resting place on the floor. He takes great care in covering Sam’s eyes. There is a small piece of him that doesn’t want to hide those precious hazel beauties, but it will help his sweet boy to release. Once the black, silky fabric is firmly in place, he whispers in a breathy low voice, “Stand up.”

His boy obediently follows as he rises to his feet, putting his arms out for Dean, who in turn leads the giant beast to the sliding handcuffs against the right wall. Pivoting his Sam, he heaves him with his back against the white bricks enclosing the cuffs on his wrists and ankles. Dean uses one hand to pet Sam and the other to pull on the chains affixed to Sam’s accessories. With each tug it pulls his feet and arms further apart. Once Sam is in a delicious X formation he stops.

He leaves him to stew for several minutes while Dean preps his table. Filling it with all his delectable toys and necessities, he recalls one of the bolded lines in the contract adding a few condoms to the rolling sterling silver table. It seems early but he needs to be prepared. The true dominant of him stills as he listens to Sam’s breathing. He can hear the hitch of excitement build to almost a whine before he moves towards his baby boy, dragging the table behind him.

Dean licks his lips letting his tongue drag against his teeth. In that moment, Dean takes in the amazing body before him, and even better, the sexiest cock he has ever seen. Nerves have the penis at half mast but it’s still impressive. Stepping into his space, Dean takes one finger, using his finger nail to draw up and down puppy’s lollipop. Sam reacts with pleasure as his cock stiffens and a whimper escapes those cherry lips. Once he has him rock hard leaking with pre-cum, Dean slips a cock ring over his dick. The ring barely fits, but snugger the better in his mind. Sam’s hips buck in desire at Dean’s touch, making his own crotch firm and wanting. 

Snatching a feather, Dean tickles his puppy’s skin with slow strokes over his body. Dean begins at his shoulders, and using a delicate hand, he dusts in a downward motion. The second the feather reaches the cock ring Dean pauses to bend into Sam’s chest blowing softly on each nipple. A single soft moan escapes his sweet boy’s mouth, which intensifies the pressure of the feather as Dean begins again at his shoulders. He repeats the pattern three more times until Sam’s back arches into the anticipation of Dean’s breath.

Tipping his head to Sam’s chest, Dean kisses each nipple ever so chastely, listening as his breathe catches in his throat stronger and deeper now. Gradually, with a snail’s pace, Dean draws a cross on his chest using only his tongue; the top bar expands from nipple to nipple. While the vertical line runs from his collar bone to the start of his happy trail. Dean repeats this pattern over and over watching as Sam becomes to expect the rhythm of the movement. Then he slips the ice from a tray into his hand, detaching his tongue from Sam’s skin he replaces it with the ice. As the ice hits Sam’s skin, he calls out in a forceful moan surprised by the change. Again goose bumps chase the ice, and his skin reddens as Dean repeats the same pattern over and over. Without changing the tempo of the ice he uses his free hand to procure a lighted candle.

Once Dean assesses that Sam’s body has accepted the cold of the ice he throws it to the blood red floor. In the same sweeping motion, he tilts the candle letting the wax fall to those beautiful nipples and everything in between. Sam shrieks in pain only once before he fights the sensation with quick sharp pants. His quick recovery impresses Dean and he shows it through a soft kiss to Sam’s temple. A thrust of his hips shows Dean how much puppy wants to cum.

The dominant man opens the cuffs, taking his puppy into his arms for an embrace before panting into his ear, “on your knees.” Sam drops to his knees pulling Dean’s crotch into his face, quick fingers tugging at the loose buttons, causing Dean to grab his floppy hair with his fist, “Bad boy.” He drags Sam by his hair back to the mat in the center of the room leaving him on all fours. 

Patiently he watches as Sam takes his punishment for not listening. It will be at minimum 20 minutes before Dean will touch him again. When he feels it is time, he steps over, kneeling next to Sam’s backside. Raising his hand, he strikes the silky smooth ass cheek then rubs tenderly where his skin touched Sam. He replicates the hits moving them at random until both luscious cheeks are bright pink. Sam takes his reprimand in silence but Dean can see he is almost at the edge. 

The hunger driven CEO dips his lips to the deep red skin kissing it gingerly. Sam stays in place but with each kiss, he can hear a very quiet whimper. Dean moves to puppy’s head, removing the blindfold so he can gaze into those heavenly hazel eyes. Sam seductively raises his weapons to aim at Dean, and wetting his lips together, he shudders in a low voice, “Please.”

Dean startles by the request, “Sam.” 

In turn, his gentle giant rubs his soft, dark locks into Dean’s side with a tender motion as he simply repeats, “Please.”

Reaching back Dean grabs a condom and lube placing them next to Sam’s knee. He rises to rub the buttons of his jeans against his open asshole, watching as he quivers in desperation. Then Dean casually pops each button loudly so Sam can be fully aware what it is happening. Grasping the lube he pours a generous amount on his fingers rubbing them together. Using his digits slowly to open Sam up, starting with one and then working his way up to three. His favorite puppy begins to lean his hips into the thrusts of his fingers, licking his lips with pleasure. Disconnecting from that tasty hole, Dean opens the condom with his teeth, letting the wrapper fall to the floor. It is only at the sound of ripping foil that Sam looks back so his gaze meets Deans. Their eyes stay fixed and solid on one another as he harshly thrusts into Sam’s wet open ass. The action is so satisfying that they both cry out as pleasure bleeds into their very souls. Dean continues his pounding assault on Sam until he is close to climaxing, the visual connection never faulting. Reaching around, Dean detaches the cock ring as he pushes deeper attacking Sam’s prostrate. The two men scream as they orgasm together falling to the bouncy floor.

Dean hastily kisses Sam’s back, his shoulders, his head. Between each kiss he murmurs, “Good boy, my boy, sweet boy.”

He rises, grabbing the white cotton blanket from the silver table tossing it over his giant. Tucking Sam’s body in tight, he then lays on top as he continues his onslaught of praise for his boy. “Good boy, my boy, my sweet baby boy.”

He can hear the release in Sam and notices the soft sweet smile on his lips. He places one final kiss to his mouth before exclaiming, “My Sammy.”


	4. Chapter 4

Dean’s eyelids fly open as he hears “Walking on Sunshine” blaring from his phone. His senses are in shock as he takes in the sunlight streaming in from the closed blinds of his bedroom. He coughs, clearing his throat, as he rolls over to halt the shiny, happy song. Glancing at the digital read out he curses, “Fuck me”, it’s after 9 am. 

The voice on the line can’t hide the cheery laughter, “Well good morning to you too. Did someone drink himself into a stupor last night?”  
Dean scratches at the scruff on his face, “No, actually Charlie I did not have more than two beers.” Dean emphasizes his pride with a loud huff.

He can hear her giddy personality working out the new information before yelling, “You went to the Rode House!!”

She doesn’t even wait for his response before the borage of questions begins, “Oh my God did you meet someone? Did you like him? Did he like you? Holy Hell Dean, did you have sex?” He can clearly picture her jumping up and down as each new question leaves her mouth. Then she freezes pausing before taking a breath, “What is his name? Tell me. Tell me.” 

“I would love to share but it seems I’m late for work.” Dean heads for the bathroom but realizes that coffee will need to be his first stop.  
“Umm yeah, about the whole late to work thing, you realize the meeting with the new VPs was at 8am?”

Dean halts punching the air angrily, “Fuck! And you’re just calling me now?”

“Well I thought it would look strange for the CEO and the CTO to be a-wall. It just ended I totally covered for you. So if anyone asks you had a crown fall out last night, ok?”

Dean shakes his head trying to calm his annoyance, but in the end Charlie was right. “Thank you, you did well.” 

“Of course I did. This company would be nowhere without me blah blah blah. Now tell me about this new puppy?”

“Hanging up now Charlie. I will see you in an hour.” As he pulls the phone from his ear he can still her chattering away, “Don’t forget to look like your tooth hurts.”

****

Dean exits the shower feeling like a human being again. He is still chastising himself for missing the first meeting with the new VPs. Demon Hunter recently acquired several smaller software companies. A handful of the execs were kept on as VPs; this was his first big show of leadership and he overslept, “Fuck!” 

Although, he has to admit last night was the best sleep he has had in ages. A smile graces his face as he remembers why. Dean’s thoughts keep drifting off to delectable recollections of heaven and his Sam. His hands tremble with desire to touch that gorgeous man again. Standing in front of his foggy mirror, his fingers trace his lips, which still have the memory of him. He immediately seizes his phone hoping for a missed call. His heart falls to his stomach when he sees that his sweet boy has not tried to reach him. Before they parted, Dean handed him his personal cell number informing Sam to use it whenever he felt the need. Clearing his thoughts, Dean tries to get out the door before Charlie has to make another crappy excuse.

Dean does appreciate Charlie; she is like family to him. When Demon Hunter was just a start up, she came on as Dean’s personal assistant. However, it didn’t take long for Ash to recognize her true talent. She quickly became his second in command. When the chemo made him too ill to work, she stepped in and has held his old title ever since. He gave her all of Ash’s shares in the company after his death, which saved Demon Hunter from Dean’s downward spiral. There is a part of Dean that will always owe Charlie for being his savior in life and business.

Dean is just pulling his Aston Martin into the parking garage when “Smoke on the Water” starts playing. Dean tugs the phone out of his pants acknowledging the caller, “Did he call you?”

The dark smoke filled laugh fills his ear, “No, I haven’t heard from Sam, but I take it things went well?”

Dean pulls into his personal spot staring at the etched sign stating his name. “Yes, as I am sure you are aware things moved along nicely.”  
He can hear her take another drag of her cigar, “My club, of course I am aware, but you know once you enter heaven that’s where my cameras stop.”

“So you haven’t heard from him at all?”

A long sharp cackle is her response, “Dean it’s not even noon yet, and why would he call me?”

There is desperation in his voice, “I don’t know, I was hoping he lost the paper with my number and had to call you.”

“Look, he may still be asleep or hell at work all day. I would not panic. Give it a few days, but I’m actually calling to confirm Bela for tonight?” 

Dean steps out of the car leaning against the door perplexed by the question, “Why would I have Bela booked?” It is only once the question escapes his lips that he remembers. “Crap, the company celebration is tonight.”

“Yes, so a month ago you asked for Bela to be your date. You can still cancel if you have someone else in mind.”

Dean chuckles at Ellen’s vain attempts, “No, please tell her to be at my penthouse by 7pm sharp.”

“I still don’t know why you need a beard. It is not a secret that you and Ash were…”

Dean cuts her off fast, “Ellen stop. I don’t want to mix business with my personal life. I can’t do that ever again.”  
Ellen sighs into the phone, “Alright, seems silly to me, but I will let her know.”

The phone goes quiet as Dean slips it back into the front pocket of his Dark Navy, Hugo Boss suit. It’s one of his favorites especially matched with his Calvin Klein blood red power tie.

He struts towards the elevator as he puts on his CEO face.

****

Dean checks the alarm clock on his night stand as he shrugs into his black Armani tux. Damn, Bela is late again. This not his idea of a fun night but Charlie assures him that this is a must after that past few months. The black tie event will be held at a local art gallery by the Dallas Opera House. It was originally to welcome the new employees from the merger but after their amazing week they have multiple reasons to rejoice.

For like the hundredth time that day, Dean glances at his phone praying for a missed call. His shoulders slump in disappointment as he accepts there were none. Why would Sam not call? They had more than just a phenomenal session, at least to Dean, there was a profound connection. He would swear on his own life that Sam was just as smitten. Dean peers at the mirror, “Dude, get a hold of yourself. What are you, like a 12 year old girl?”

“Maybe more like 15 but the rest seems accurate.” Dean starts as his eyes meet the tall brunette in his bedroom doorway.

“Haven’t you heard of knocking Bela?” He shoves her back towards the living room with annoyed huff.

“Most of my clients like it when I slip in unannounced.” She exclaims in that delightful British accent turning to face him with a seductive bounce in her eyebrows. 

“There are a lot of things you do with your other clients that will never apply to me.” Dean takes a second to admire her gorgeous deep violet Prada gown and shoes. Grabbing his keys off the table he points to the exit.

She just shrugs tossing her hair to the side, “True.”


	5. Chapter 5

The black town car drops them off in front of the gallery entrance. It has two floors with the total front façade made completely of glass. This allows people passing by to see the art and the amazing cascading white staircase which is the true show piece of the space. The chandeliers are swaying with a warm bright light. Charlie knows one of the owners, and begged Dean to have the party there. He liked the idea of supporting the local artists as well as his own ego. 

Dean places his hand on the small of Bela’s back as he leads her through the front doors whispering, “Here we go.”

The second he touches her she plasters a kind smile to her face and practically sparkles. This is why Dean has been hiring Bela for appearances the past few years. She may have a snarky mouth in private, but shit, she is breathtaking when she needs to be. Most the attendees will be mesmerized by her, allowing Dean to just stand in the shadows.

Practically three hours later, Dean is done with the social niceties. He has shaken hands, hugged, and at times kissed almost every employee, especially the new ones. Yet it seems each time he tries to disappear, Charlie is dragging him back to meet a new set of faces he will never remember. He is horrified when she tugs him by the arm towards the center of the gallery, “Time for the big speech.”

Dean wants to deny the existence of any and all public speaking, but Charlie has scolded him about not being the true figure head of the billion dollar company. Before he even has a chance to dash out the fire exit, she has him standing alone on the grand staircase with a sea of eyes gazing at him. It is in that moment, from the long sigh to his first word, that he sees those puppy dog hazel beauties. His voice stumbles as he is suddenly lost in a wave of jumbled emotions. Hastily he changes his stance looking in a new direction as he clears his throat. He moves his focus along the crowd smiling and joking as he thanks the correct people, gives well wishes to the new recruits, and talks in depth about the ever growing Demon Hunter family. The practiced speech is like second nature, which is a blessing as his inner self is silently having a panic attack. Desperately, he tries to avoid him, but that damn giant is impossible to ignore. Why is Sam standing right there on the main floor looking like a Greek God in a cheap tux? 

Finally after what seems like an eternity, Charlie rescues him as she steps up for her part of the speech. Bela takes his elbow as the CEO steps out of the dreaded spot light. He shakes her off, spitting words at her in a hushed tone, “I need some air. If I don’t return just take the car home.” Though her eyes are still wide with queries, she simply nods. 

Dean nearly breaks out in a jog trying to find a place to hide and calm the emotional uproar that is happening inside of him. He has so many questions, and each one sends him from a state of rage to fear. Did he know who Dean was? Can Sam be an employee of his company? Is he a part of some kind of blackmail scam? How did Ellen miss this? She always does detailed background checks on all her clients before matching them. What the hell is happening? The dim corridor he chooses is quiet, but doesn’t help the onslaught of his spinning universe. 

Dean charges into an office of some kind at the end of the hall. His breathing is sporadic and painful as stars begin to dance at the edge of his vision. He is on the cusp of losing consciousness when he hears the slamming of a door, and a strong hand grasping at his shoulder. He feels the man’s lips at his ear, “Breathe Dean.” Suddenly a musky scent fills his nostrils and it calms him enough to stave off the darkness. 

Gradually Dean composes himself, straightening his posture to gape into his sweet boys eyes. Sam is still holding his shoulder, but he uses his other hand to wipe the lost tears on his cheek, “Please tell me this is not about me?”

The dominant in him wants to pull off a miracle, blaming the outburst on a phobia of public speaking. It wouldn’t be a complete lie, but he just can’t bring himself to be dishonest to Sam. He yearns to be angry, yet he doesn’t have the energy, so Dean simply plops down on the industrial gray carpeting and drops his head. To Sam’s credit, he lowers himself down next to Dean laying his floppy dark locks on his thigh. A few minutes later Dean is petting his puppy, a soft tender smile growing on both their faces.

They stay like that for quite some time, just letting the tranquility of the moment wash over them. It is Dean who disturbs the silence, “Did you know who I was before tonight?”

“I found out about the finalized merger last week after my background check appointment with Ellen. Today was my first day at Demon Hunter. I was so excited. This is like getting a job at Disneyland for a tech nerd. I’m sitting in orientation when I heard a name that sounds so familiar I nearly choked on my bagel. Seriously, they had to perform the Heimlich before I died from eating a carb.”

Dean could not stop the rush of giggles and then the giant below was joining him. The laughter filled the small office erasing the panic and easing them back to their natural rhythm. Once a hush falls upon them again, Sam rises to face Dean, cupping his face in his sturdy hands. “I wanted to call you. I wanted to text anything to find our connection again, but I was terrified you would reject me. I’m just the low level IT guy, and you are amazing.” His eyes dropping to the floor, “I’m nobody.”

Those words rip through Dean’s heart like a knife cutting him deep and painfully. He pulls himself up to his knees, using his fingers to heave Sam along with him so they are facing each other. “No no no, my lovely Sammy, we can make this work. I don’t know how yet, but if you want me….”

Sam abruptly cuts off Dean with a kiss to the lips. It is soft, wet, and affectionate. When it ends, their foreheads remain touching as Sam assures him, “I want you Dean. Last night meant the world to me. Please please please.”

The wispy begging of Sam is Dean’s undoing. Somewhere deep in his subconscious he is highly aware that he will do anything for his sweet boy, but right now he is in a shitty office space with no toys or condoms. He shrugs his shoulders making eye contact with Sam, “I was not prepared for this.”

A wicked grin dances across Sam’s face as he digs a familiar foil packet out of his back pocket. Dean is impressed, but tightens his eyelids in a questioning squint. 

Sam releases a nervous chuckle, “I knew you would be here tonight. I took a chance.” He then places the condom between his puffy pink lips before dropping down to all fours. Dean closes his eyes as he decides on a scenario, then stands retrieving the Trojan from his puppy’s mouth.

Discovering his dark sultry voice, he commands “Strip.” He admires Sam’s quick response to his demand as Dean checks the lock on the door. He grabs a random folding chair from behind the desk placing it under the door knob for added security. 

Dean deliberately takes his time to remove his own jacket tossing it on a filing cabinet along with his silver cufflinks rolling his sleeves to his elbows. By this point, Sam is naked and breathless, standing before him with a deep seeded desire burning from his eyes. Dean steps into the towering man’s space, dragging his finger down the happy trail. He halts at the edge of his cock as a grin builds on both their faces. The CEO tugs at his bow tie violently tearing it from the resting place on his neck. He takes the black fabric placing it between Sam’s teeth like a horse bit. Using a delicate touch, he ties it behind his head making sure the material is taught. He then bends to grab the bow tie Sam was wearing only minutes ago.

“I want your hands behind your back with your wrists together.”

A sigh escapes his lovely boy’s mouth as he complies to the request with earnest. Dean seizes his strong wrists binding them together using the black fabric.

“Now you won’t be able to speak so if you need to tap out, simply snap your fingers. Do you understand?”

Sam’s eyes soften as he releases into Dean’s care nodding his head yes.

An air of authority straining his voice, “Show me.”

Immediately Dean hears two sharp snaps from behind Sam’s back.

“That’s my good boy.” He leans in placing a kiss to Sam’s cheek before shoving the giant back into the side of the desk. He positions Sam so his ass cheek is sitting on the edge of the cheap harsh metal desk. He then scans the area for something, and is genuinely surprised to see suspenders in the pile of discarded clothes. His own cock begins to awaken as his idea comes to fruition.

Collecting the suspenders from the floor he saunters back to Sam and in a deep gruff tone, “Spread your legs.”

He uses each suspender to secure Sam’s ankles to the bottom legs of the metal desk. Now whenever Sam moves, the sharp metal corners and sides will bite into the back of his thighs. Dean can feel the thrilling anticipation pouring from his sweet boy. They lock eyes as Dean drops to his knees, taking Sam’s hard cock into his palm. He gingerly strokes the organ watching it jump in reaction to his touch.

A stern command follows, “Do not cum until I say, do you understand?”

A quiver sweeps across Sam as he gently nods yes.

It is only after a long lustful look into those hazel eyes that Dean lowers his mouth, taking the tip of Sam’s dick into his mouth. A muffled gasp explodes into the silence of the room along with a soft suckling noise. Using his tongue, teeth, and fingers, Dean strokes his sweet boy into a frizzy. The CEO is astray in hunger, as he devours the humungous cock before him streaming in pre-cum. He notices hips beginning to thrust into his throat with each dip of his head. Between the gagged moans, Dean can hear tight winces of pain as the metal corners bite into open bare flesh. Sam is close but it’s not over yet. 

Dean leaves his knees as hazel brown eyes track his every movement. Once he is fully erect, he unzips the fly of his pants releasing his own aching, stiff manhood. Taking his time so Sam can revel in the anticipation, Dean opens the condom tugging it over his dick. Sam’s eyes are searching in all directions, trying with building confusion, to understand how this will happen with his ass shoved upon the metal desk. Dean uses his free hand to jerk Sam’s chin so their eyes can meet again. He winks before reaching for each ankle liberating them from their bindings. After placing his palms on Sam’s solid, well-developed pecks; he shoves him onto his back sprawled across the desk. The action is slightly hindered by his hands still tied behind his back but those will stay.

Rolling Sam’s knees up to his shoulders allows Dean access to that juicy, tight ass. Yet there is one more task before he can pound it into oblivion. He grips Sam’s cock in his hand and harshly jacks him off whispering, “Cum for me.”

Sam has been teetering on the edge for so long it takes barely three strokes before a fountain of jizz spews from him. Dean quickly releases the organ catching as much of the creamy substance as possible. He then rubs it up and down Sam’s ass crack before pushing two fingers inside that lovely hole. A deep guttural groan escapes them both as Dean continues to open up his prize. He then uses his own muscular thighs to push himself deep into Sam. They both cry out in pleasure as he penetrates deeper and longer with each thrust. Gradually he builds, making the rhythm faster until he is jerking and biting his own lip to hold in a massive scream.

Promptly after his orgasm, he is untying all of Sam’s bindings whispering over and over, “Good boy, sweet boy, my boy.”  
They drop to the carpet as Dean pulls his puppy into his lap, wrapping him tightly with his embrace. The two men sit in silence as Dean tenderly rocks his Sammy back and forth petting all over his sticky skin. Then with a warm smile, he can sense all the way to his toes, “Welcome to the Demon Hunter family.”


	6. Chapter 6

Dean snuggles deeper into his comforter, letting the supple material envelope him.  He doesn’t even try to fight the huge grin on his face.  Last night had been spectacular with his Sam.  He lets the name roll gingerly off his tongue, “My Sammy.”  They would need to iron out a more permanent contract which would have to include conduct at work, but that was just the little details.  For the first time in a very long time, Dean has found faith in something.  He glances at the clock on his nightstand, another miracle encouraging his bright optimism, Dean has slept till 8:30am.  He stretches, letting all the muscles wake up as he climbs out of bed. 

Monday through Thursday Dean works first thing with a trainer, but on Saturdays he likes to run.  There is something freeing in just taking off with nothing but your Nike’s and excellent tunes.  This is his time to ponder and clear his head.  He protects his solitude run with every ounce of his soul.  After collecting his headphones, throwing some shorts and a t-shirt over his sleeping briefs he heads out the door.

He’s stretching on the front lawn of his building beneath the unforgiving Dallas morning sun, while simultaneously messing with his phone trying to find the right music to fit his mood.  The humidity makes his shirt damp and clingy in only a few minutes.  Suddenly his phone rumbles and twinkles with news of an incoming text.  Dean doesn’t recognize the number but he has an idea as to who it could be.

_Hey Dean, It’s Sam.  Last night was amazing.  I have to go to Austin for the rest of the weekend so maybe we could meet Monday night at the Rode House.  Let me know!_

The smile on Dean’s face slips as he realizes that means two more nights until he gets to wrap his arms around his sweet boy.  He recovers quickly as he saves Sam’s number and then replies.

_Be safe.  Call me if you need anything.  I can be there pronto.  Monday, Rode House, 8pm?_

The response comes within seconds of Dean hitting send.

_I promise to be a good boy.  How can you get there pronto?  8pm works great._

Dean reads “good boy” three times grinning like a flirty school girl.  His retort is swift.

_Helicopter, hour tops_

Ticking time elapses almost a whole minute before the joyous twinkling sound returns.  For like thirty seconds Dean has a silent panic attack thinking he did something wrong.

_*whistles* That is not something I hear every day. Can you fly it?  Don’t worry I will never ask._

His heart sinks a bit with that last sentence.  Dean desperately wants Sam to ask for the world so he can give it to him.

_Fuck no, I’m not an idiot.  I hire properly trained pilots who can fly in a moment’s notice.  Seriously though, if you need me, I am there, always._

The nominal connection to his puppy is sending butterflies into Dean’s empty stomach.  God, Sam is perfect.

_Gotta go see you Monday!  :)_

Dean reads the words reluctantly, wishing that they would magically change into something more, but alas, he is now dripping in sweat and hasn’t even started his jog.  He pushes play and AC/DC blares through the headphones.  Dean is humming ‘Thunderstruck’ as he takes off down the road at a strong pace.

His thoughts keep drifting to those whiskey stained hazel eyes and breathtaking goofy grin.  Sam’s skin is like touching silk that moves with you, rolling hips that call to be stroked with fingers, lips, and tongue.  His hair swings when he laughs and is just the perfect length for pulling the jolly giant into submission.  Dean can still taste Sam’s pre-cum cock in his mouth, licking his lips in reaction.

The music plays, Dean runs, and he is lost in his memories.  When he turns a corner it’s like a fist smacks him in the chest.  He has to bend over trying to find his breathe again.  What on earth was he doing?  It’s true every Saturday he jogs to this location but he wasn’t even paying attention.  It was like his subconscious was crying out to him.  Dean cuts off the music as he crosses the ostentatious iron gate, making a direct line to the plot. 

There is a slight breeze forcing the trees and flowers to softly sway.  He can smell the fresh cut grass as the sun beats down on him.  A few more minutes of strolling and he arrives at his destination.  There is no shade here, but Dean has ordered some trees to be planted nearby, so on future visits it will be better.  The tombstone is only six years old but it already has a worn look to it.  The marble is not as pristine white as the day it was erected.  Dean takes a moment to swipe away some dirt and leaves before settling in the grass before it. 

He lies on his back, his arms crossed over his face, protecting his eyes.  This is normal to Dean.  He has been lying with Ash in the grass since the first day they met three months into kindergarten.  Ash was a new student, and Dean had been living in Dallas his whole life, so they assigned him to be his buddy.  He showed Ash the ropes; how to maneuver the lunchroom, where the library was, and even the best way to climb to the top of the playground first.  That day after school, they had played at Dean’s house, watching the clouds, lying with the soft green earth below them.  The teacher had instructed Dean to hold Ashes hand until he felt comfortable on his own.  It wasn’t until he took his last raspy breath that Dean ever let go.  

From the second Dean took Ash’s chubby fingers, they spent every waking hour together.  The years passing like a blur except for their one true north, the others hand.  In the beginning it was just a strong bond they shared.  Their souls were happier when they were united.  It wasn’t until Junior year of High School that they became more than friends.  On Halloween night, playing spin the bottle in Aunt Ellen’s basement was their first kiss.  It was tender and sweet, filled with innocence and love.  That lasted about two months until their hormones got the better of them and they were dry humping each other in any closet they could find. 

Senior prom was a memory that will live with Dean forever.  Ash’s parents kept their heads in the sand demanding he take a girl.  Dean found a solution that answered all their prayers.  He knew a lesbian couple with the same problem and they went as a foursome.  Dean can still remember standing next to Ash their elbows barely touching as their parents took a million photos of the blessed event.  Dean was pretty sure his parents were just shocked he was going at all.  

After two hours of crappy dance music and swaying in line with his beard they were set free.  Ash thought it would be fun to spend the night in a cemetery, convinced they would see a ghost.  The two boys cuddled together under the dark blue sleeping bag, letting their bodies meld into one.  It was the night where Dean said “I love you, Ash” for the first time, and they lost their virginity to each other.

With a sigh, Dean glances over at the tree where that extraordinary night occurred.  He wasn’t able to get the plot exactly where he wanted but it still had a fabulous view. Tossing over so he is on his stomach, his hands tucked under his chin, Dean looks at the marble marker with kind eyes, occasionally reaching out to simply grace his fingers across the cool stone.  This is the closest he gets to that precious hand anymore. 

“I love you, Ash.”  He speaks in a hushed tone as though he were in a confessional.  “I met someone.  His name is Sam.  You would like him.  It’s still really early, but you know me, I get attached fast.  I got to ask this cause I think I know the answer, but would you let me know.  Did you send him to me?”

Movement catches the corner of his eye and he sees her standing silently.  Dean rises to his feet waving her over to the grave.  As she approaches, Dean kisses the etched name of his beloved Ash whispering, “I thought so.”

 She looks ridiculous with her umbrella and large brimmed hat, but then again he might regret the open blistering sun later.  She is the only woman Dean knows that will smoke a cigar in the Texas heat.

“Ellen, what are you doing here?”

She swats at him playfully, “You aren’t the only one who misses him, Dean.  I thought I would pay my respects before heading over to the club.”

Dean just nods as they fall into silence each saying their goodbyes.  Ellen takes a final drag letting the smoke swizzle around her frizzy hair.  She reaches for his elbow pulling him closer, “Damn boy you stink.  Did you run here all the way from your white tower?”

“Yes, and I don’t smell that bad,” taking a quick whiff to confirm his statement.

“Well hell, it’s too damn hot for you to dash back, come.”  They both leave Ash as they head to Ellen’s silver Tahoe.  Michael is there swinging the door open for them.

They ride in peace, enjoying the chilly air blowing from the vents.  Ellen pats Dean’s thigh taking in a deep sigh, “You seem to be in a good mood.  Did Sam finally find your number?’

Dean battles the massive grin spreading on his face, but finally he relents letting the elation pour from his heart. “You could say that, yes.”

“Well aren’t you just brimming with delight.  Will I be seeing y’all tonight?”

The gust of bliss drops, “No, he had to go to Austin, but I will be there.”

Ellen bounces her head, “Your usual table?”

“Yes, but speaking of Sam, can you reserve room number seven for me like around 8 on Monday?”

The shock on her face glimpses for only a second, then the business woman slides into place, “Room number seven?”

 The Tahoe pulls up to Dean’s building, allowing him a speedy escape.  “Yes, room number seven and I will have a few added requests.”

Her eyes squint in blatant curiosity.  Her words are slow like she is trying to piece together a difficult puzzle, “Okay, why don’t you write them down and drop them by my office tonight before the show.”

He climbs out of the SUV almost spitting the words at her, “I also think that Sam and I will need a long term contract drawn up.”

He slams the door racing to the entrance.  He hears her screaming from behind, “Dean Smith, don’t you run from me!  I want to know what brought this on…”

The front door comes crashing closed as Dean leans against the wall trying to catch his breath.  He knows she will berate him with questions, but he honestly has no answers save one, “Hazel brown eyes.”


	7. Chapter 7

Dean exits Ellen’s office practically bouncing with excitement.  He checks his watch, noting that he’s got thirty minutes until Sam comes to him.  The weekend sluggishly dragged on like cold honey from a jar; however, he survived his torturous Sammy hiatus and everything is in place.  It took some haggling with Ellen to get the set up and contract he wanted, but in the end, she relinquished to his wishes.

He knows that Sam will have to spend a while in the damn office to finalize everything, but Dean still hasn’t seen him yet.  They had confirmed the time this morning via text, but it was still early or Sam was running late.  Dean purred at the thought of having to discipline his naughty puppy.  Taking a seat at the bar he nods to the bartender.  Seconds later his ice-cold beer materializes as does his warm sweet boy.  Dean watches him over the top of his mug, feeling slightly like a stalker.  God, he looks amazing in his dark jeans and black v-neck shirt.  Sam spots him as he crosses the room, waving to Dean who plays it cool, simply winking in response.   His heart ache’s a little as Sam disappears into the vortex of the office.

Monday’s are quiet at the Rode House.  The first floor club is closed for cleaning and the stage is always silent.  Classical music is faintly playing in the background.  Dean wishes he could identify the song but anything before 1960 just isn’t his thing.  There are just a handful of people scattered throughout the couches going about their own enjoyment.  Only a select few and their dates are even granted access, but of course Dean is one of those people.  Which leads Dean to believe that Sam has scened with someone he knows if he knew that Monday would even be possible.  It’s not like Dean believed Sam to be anything other than a well-conditioned submissive, but he can’t help but wonder.

Dean is on his third beer, still organizing the list of possible ex-Dom’s for Sam, when the door opens and his stunningly handsome boy bounds out headed straight for him.  He chugs his beer slamming the mug onto the bar ready with a witty quip when he is swept up in a kiss.  Sam devours his mouth with a needy want that Dean happily returns.  They are still in the throes of passion when Dean begins to bang loudly on the bar, getting everyone’s attention. He is rewarded with a white key slapped into his hand, and giggling in the background.  Dean attempts to break the kiss, hoping to make a dash for the elevator doors when he suddenly is tossed over Sam’s shoulder.  The dom in him is dying of embarrassment at being carried by his puppy.  The sensation dissipates as Sam growls deep and low, “mine”.  Dean’s cock goes rock hard which is quite a feat given that all the blood is rushing to his head.

Finally, when they step out into the white corridor, Sam lets Dean’s feet touch the floor.  Yet, in the same second he is rushing his master with kisses and roaming fingers.  This time, Dean separates them with a tad of worry in his voice, “Sam are you okay?”

It takes a beat for Sam to register the inquiry, “I’m fine.  I just missed you.”

A gentle chuckle escapes Dean’s mouth, “I have noticed.  Are you sure, we can do something else if you want, maybe a movie?”

His luscious locks flop from side to side, “Nope.  I am just …well I was surprised….you want me all to yourself.”

This was part of the contract that Ellen really balked at; she hated monogamy clauses.  However, she knew that Dean needed the safety of those words.  That neither ~~,~~ the Dominant, or Submissive, would enter into a new relationship before re-writing or discussing it with their partner first.

 Lifting his hand to pet that soft silky hair, “I do.  I want you to be my Sammy, and I don’t share my subs.  But now we don’t have to rush anything, ever.”

And then there it is. The beginning and end of Dean’s undoing.  Sam whips out the puppy dog sad eyes, a soothing whimper begging from his throat, “Please.”

A calmness drapes across Dean like armor.  His dark sultry voice restored, “We are in room number 7.  I want you completely dressed standing in the middle of the room.  Understand?”

Sam’s eyes remain locked to Dean’s as he nods his head yes.

Dean grasps his sweet boy’s chin tightly with his fingers, “Tell me the safe word.”

“Lawrence.”

Dean uses his free hand to caress his arms and chest. “Good boy. Now I want you to feel free to use it.  Okay?  No tough puppies in my scene. Got it?”

Those hazel brown beauties fall to the floor as their owner whispers, “Yes sir.”

****

Dean enters the playroom with nothing but the old tattered button fly jeans on his tan muscular body.  He notices that Sam has taken the liberty and removed his shoes and socks but is standing exactly as ordered.  Those hazel eyes are tracking him, so Dean crosses to the line of cabinets on the back wall.  Room seven is less like a playroom and more like a bedroom.  There is a massive king size four-poster bed against one side.  The normal toy cabinets line the back wall, and on the other side is a floor-to-ceiling mirror, spanning the entire room.  This room has luscious, rich, high end, dark brown carpeting that match the décor. The entire room is dripping in dark woods, giving it a shadowy feeling for the players.  Normally the bed is covered with a red rubber sheet or a simple satin brown one.  Glancing to the bed he observes that the 100% pure silk white sheets have taken their place.  There are also a dozen pillows of varying sizes covered in silk too.

Opening a drawer, he pulls out a black silk blindfold before turning to stand in front of Sam.  He secures the fabric around Sam’s eyes, kissing him chastely on those pouty pink lips.  Leisurely Dean begins to undress his puppy.  He pulls the shirt over the man’s head, making sure that his fingers touch and skim across his skin whenever possible.  Then he leans in and kisses each nipple taking a fast upwards lick of his tongue to each one.  He grins as a shiver spreads across Sam chased by erupting goose bumps.  Next, Dean drops to his knees as he removes the jeans and boxers.  He takes a moment to admire the exquisite man standing naked before him.  Dean reaches up while still on his knees, and draws with his finger nail a line from his collarbone all the way to the tip of his dick.  The organ quivers at his Dom’s gentle tender touch.

Dean bends so his face is almost touching Sam’s crotch, but just barely.  He lets his breathe build as he blows across the wanting manhood.  He hears Sam startle at his breath as he stands, taking the puppy’s hands into his own.  He guides the giant over to the heavenly white bed, shoving him down onto his back.  He hastily props pillows around the man, planting swift kisses whenever he feels the need for contact.  Gradually Dean entices four dark black silk ties from under the bed.  He uses the material to secure his sweet boy’s wrists and ankles to each opposing post of the bed.  Then Dean steps away from the bed to let his Sammy’s anticipation and curiosity grow.

He busies himself filling the sterling silver tray with accessories for the main event.  Then he saunters over to the bed, dragging the rolling table behind him.  He climbs onto the mountain of silk and skin, crawling up Sam on his hands and knees.  He rests his ass on his puppy’s chest feeling the ebb and flow of his heavy breathing.  Steadily he pops each button of his fly making sure that Sam can hear them.  The sweet boy whimpers and grinds his teeth, desperate to feel Dean’s dick.  The master rolls off of him and rises to stand next to the bed.  He lets the last bit of fabric on his body drift to the velvety smooth carpet below.  Dean repositions himself atop of his lovely boy, straddling his chest.  This time, Sam is panting heavily at the contact.  His desires are unleashed as he pulls and fights with the restraints.  Dean rocks his hips up and down the man’s torso rubbing his balls, cock, and ass against the delicious skin.  Glancing back he acknowledges Sam’s stiff wanting cock leaking with pre-cum, his hips bucking to move Dean faster or closer to filling his dark wishes.

The giant’s resolve collapses as he shakes, lost in the wave of need for his master.  Seizing the cock ring from the silver tray he turns to place it on the man’s dick when he hears the whisper from his Sam.

The stutter is so pronounced he can barely hear it:  “La…La…Lawrence.”

Ice water splashes through Dean’s veins and he can’t move fast enough to release his puppy from the restraints.  His movements are prompt as he checks each one for any marks or cuts to the beautiful man’s skin.  After the blindfold is removed, Dean spots the tears erupting from Sam’s hazel eyes.  His breathe is shattered as sobs fill the silence of the room.

Dean cups his face filling his mouth with kisses, “No, no, no, my sweet Sammy.  What’s wrong, please tell me.”

Sam shakes his head no as his sobs grow into a thunderous roar.  Dean envelopes Sam with his body petting his silky skin and peppering his face with kisses, “Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here.”

Sam continues his silent sobs, each one like a stab to Dean’s soul, “Tell me what you need.  Please, my sweet boy, tell me.”

Their eyes lock as Dean wipes the tears from Sam’s face.  They stare at each other for several minutes. Then Sam relents from silence, “I need you.”

A perplexed look spreads across Dean’s face, “You have me.  I promise you have me.”

“I need you inside me but…..”

Dean is searching his eyes frantic for more, “But what?”

“Can I have you vanilla?  I just want simple, vanilla.”

Dean doesn’t answer out loud he just takes his gentle giant into his arms, kissing him full on the mouth.  The loving embrace is tender, letting their tongues caress and fill the others soul.  Sam grabs the lube from off the tray, rolling his hips upward, laying his knees next to each of Dean’s ears.  Dean gazes in wonder as his Sam uses his own fingers, slick with lube, to open himself up for him.  While puppy works his hole, Dean retrieves the condom and slides it over his solid, wanting cock.  Dean heaves forward, nearly bending the man in half as he returns to those wet lips for another delectable kiss.  As their lips explore, Dean penetrates inside his Sammy.  The two men groan at the intrusion, never releasing the other’s lips.  Without warning, Dean is astray as he tries to find a firm place to settle his hands.  Sam captures them in his own strong grip holding tight.  Dean’s hips continue to roll his dick deeper into his puppy while they are lost in the taste of the moment.  Dean takes one hand away, allowing him to stroke Sam’s cock in time with his steady thrusts until they both explode screaming in climax together.

Reluctantly, Dean removes himself from Sam, curling up next to the towering man.  In a hushed tone, he murmurs, “Better?”

Sam’s eyes are closed, but the joyous grin on his face is everything to Dean, “Yes, thank you.”

His favorite puppy then cuddles into his chest rubbing his soft sensual hair into Dean’s neck.  In turn the master wraps his arms around his Sam, enjoying the afterglow.  Several minutes later he hears a muffled snore from his giant.  Dean just lets him sleep, elated by the connection to his sweet boy, tugging the silk top sheet over them.  It has been over six years since he has had just vanilla.  He laces his fingers with Sam’s as a tear falls from Dean’s eye, because he truly is in heaven.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Dean is jogging on the treadmill admiring the Dallas skyline just before dawn.  The sky is still dark with night, but if one waits, the glimmer of light will appear marking daybreak.  His trainer is setting up the weights for his Wednesday routine.  Most days Dean is up and moving by 5:30am; he likes a slow roll to his morning.  The ear buds from his phone are playing Led Zeppelin’s “Ramble On”. 

Last night Dean had to work late which meant no Sammy time.  He was devastated to cancel on those hazel eyes but as Sam pointed out, “Someone needs a collar so Daddy needs to work.”  He didn’t get back to his penthouse until almost 10pm, exhausted and cranky from lack of puppy.  His spirits lifted when the familiar twinkle sounded from his pocket. 

_I’m bored.  Can you chat?_

Dean didn’t even text him back. He immediately dialed his number so he could hear his sweet boy’s voice.  The second he heard that bubbly, deep, sexy, “Hey Dean”, everything negative just melted from Dean to the floor below.  They talked for over an hour about nothing at all.  Yet, the master learned a lot about his Sam.  The most vital was something was going on in Austin.  He didn’t want to get into it but the weekend was weighing heavily on his lovely boy’s shoulders.  Dean let it go but filed the information away for later inquiry.  They did the classic my favorite, your favorite, and it seemed that the conversation just flowed with their desire to just hear the other.  He learned that Sam’s current favorite singer was a guy called Phillip Phillips, which after listening, Dean felt was a little to emo for him.  But he still chose the song “Home” for Sam’s ringtone.

Although, right at this moment he can actually hear the meaningful words whispering in his ear then recognition hits as he realizes Sam’s ringtone is playing.  Feeling extremely stupid and silly, he answers still in a pant as he stops the spinning treadmill.

“Sam, are you okay?”

Dean is holding his breath nervous as to why his sweet boy is calling him at dawn. 

“I’m fine Dean but umm, I need a favor.”

He slightly exhales, “Sure, what do you need?”

An embarrassing chuckle prefaces his next comment, “I need a ride to work.  My roommate spent the night out and won’t be back in time to drive me.”  Dean can envision Sam shaking his head ashamed that his only way to work got laid last night.

“It’s not a problem. Do you want me to pick you up?”

They had discussed just the previous night that Sam’s apartment building was barely 2 miles from Dean’s place. 

“No it’s like just 6am now. I was thinking I would run over and then we can leave whenever you want.”

A naughty wicked grin spreads across the CEO’s lips.  His puppy would be all sweaty if he dashes over, which means the need for a shower.  “Deal.  I will leave a key with the doorman just let yourself in when you get here.”

A hesitant voice replies, “Sure, umm what’s your apartment number?”

Dean explodes in a full body laugh, “Penthouse baby, top floor.  See you soon.”

“Great, shouldn’t take me long. Bye.”

He is sitting on the treadmill, his sinful grin still prevalent.  When he looks up he is smacked by one hell of a bitch face.

“No phones during the work out Dean.”

Dean nods putting the phone back in his pocket, “Sorry, Gadreel.  You’ve got thirty minutes.”

*****

Of course the one morning he needs Gadreel to finish on time he lags it on for an extra ten minutes.  Dean waves at the doorman on his way up and was notified that his visitor was already allowed entrance.  Dean paces the elevator as it soars to the top floor.  Sam is alone in his home.  The thought of his puppy stumbling across a photo or letter from Ash makes his chest tighten with anxiety.  He punches the wall of the elevator trying to fight of the anger that is rising.  What was he thinking?  He’s not ready for this, Cas was the last person he let in his home.  God, the second he hears that sweet boys voice his ability to be logical hemorrhages away.

The panic has boiled into uncontrollable fear as Dean shoves open his own front door.  Once inside he stills when he notices the most curious thing.  A single puppy size sneaker in the middle of the foyer, he bends over picking it up when he observes the other one in the living room.  Suddenly he is aware of a growing trail through his penthouse.  Dean is now keenly alert to the fact that Sam is completely naked.  A pair of boxers hangs on the door knob to his bedroom with the door closed.

Dean exhales slowly as he lets the door swing open.  The sight before him is so amazing he couldn’t have set a better scene himself.  Sam is on all fours as he kneels on top of Dean’s king size bed.  He is wearing nothing except Dean’s favorite tie around his neck and a condom between his lips.

Dean glances at the clock, calculating the absolutely lack of time for him to properly appreciate the glorious ass that is sprawled before him.  He approaches the bed pausing next to his puppy.  He begins petting Sam’s soft locks as he retrieves his phone from his pocket.  Absentmindedly he dials the familiar number while his sweet boy watches with questioning eyes.

He is forced to dial twice before Charlie picks up, “Man, it’s not even 7am.  You know I need my beauty rest.”

Dean smiles, “How you can get up at 7:15am, and still make it to work on time will always be a mystery to me.”

“Damn straight.  A girl can’t give away all her secrets.  Spill the beans why are you calling?”

Sam nuzzles his nose into Dean’s thigh causing his cock to have thoughts of his own.  “Can you do a couple of things for me?”

“Shoot.”  He can hear her stretching and moving about her house.

“I need you to clear my schedule till noon.”  Sam stops his rubbing rising to look at Dean, waving his arms as he understands what’s happening.  Dean swats him on the ass.  “I also need to put a fake work order in for an IT guy to work on my laptop at home all morning.  I need the tech to be a Sam Wesson.  Make sure it’s seamless, and that no one will notice his absence.”

There is a prolonged pause while Charlie’s brain catches up, “Holy Shit! Sam Wesson is your new puppy?”

Dean continues ignoring her comment, “Will you do it?”

“Umm, yes you nerd. I will cover for you, again.”  She lets out a long dramatic sigh.  Then clearly a thought perks her right up.  “Wait.  Where are you guys? The Rode House is closed by now?  Oh…..My…..God!  Are you taking him to the bunker?  I want to know everything, do you understand me Smith!”

“Goodbye Charlie.  I will see you at noon.”  She was still ranting on about wanting to know details when he hits end.

Sam is sitting up with a concerned look on his face.  “Dean this is only my second week at Demon Hunter, I can’t miss the morning.”

“First of all, you will be clocked in by the CTO, showing paperwork that I needed you here to work on a busted lap top.  I often work from home and use the IT staff as my personal go to guys.  Second, there should be some perks to fucking the boss.”

Sam’s eyebrows bounce playfully, “So you have done this before?”

Dean crosses over to his tall chest of drawers acquiring a pair of running shorts for Sam.  “No, but Charlie does it like at least once a month so she owes me.  Put these on.”

Sam takes the shorts his curiosity brimming, “Why?”

“Well now that I’ve cleared our schedules I thought we could have a nice rewarding session.”

Reluctantly Sam tugs on the shorts as he follows Dean into his kitchen.  “Dean I love the idea, but you realize even you can’t get The Rode House opened this early in the morning.”

A Cheshire cat grin builds on his face, “Who said anything about The Rode House?  Now, breakfast first, then off to play.”

Once they completed their breakfasts of oatmeal and fresh fruit with lots of spring water, Dean b-lines for the front door.  “Come on handsome lets go.”

Sam plants himself in the foyer, “Dean, where are we going?”

The master saunters over to his puppy, dipping his finger into the waistband of Sam’s shorts.  He draws him close as their lips meet.  The kiss goes deep and long as Dean gives his sweet boy’s dick a gentle tug, “Come.”

His fingers still draped in the waistband he drags his puppy behind him as they head for the elevator.  Once inside, Dean pushes the B3 button, but the elevator stands completely still.  He then takes a key from his key ring inserting into a slot next to the glowing button.  At the instant the key turns the elevator doors close and the chamber drops downwards.  Dean heaves his Sam into his arms as they become awry in soft lips and roaming fingers.  When the doors swish open Dean breaks the kiss stepping out into a dark hallway.  He puts his hand out, “Do you trust me?”

Sam takes his hand with a squeeze, “Yes.”

They follow a shadowy concrete corridor, the only light coming from dim emergency fixtures.  Dean backs into a door with four deadbolts along the side.  He drops Sam’s hand as he gets to work releasing the locks.  Once the last bolt slides away he faces his Sammy, “A special person in my life helped me design and build this a couple of years ago.  His name was Castiel, and I haven’t brought anyone else here until now.  Ready?”

Sam’s eyes are wide with anticipation as he simply shakes his head yes.

Dean heaves his weight into the door as it gradually opens allowing them to enter.  The master stays in the doorway, giving his puppy space to explore and sniff out the new play area.  The room is completely opposite to the dungeon-like entrance.  There is soft lighting from the ceiling making the room almost cheerful.  The floor is a light hard wood which actually gives the space warmth.  Just like the playrooms at the Rode house, the far wall is lined with cabinets of assorted shapes and sizes; however, the cabinet doors are made of glass displaying the toys and accessories.  On the wall closest to the door is a classic wooden rack with differing types of cuffs and ties.  In the center of the room is a large four poster bed with crème silk sheets.   A small nightstand is to the left overflowing with goodies.

Dean rocks on his heels thrilled to share with his sweet boy, “What do you think?  I call it the bunker.”

Sam struts over to Dean putting his hand into his master’s pocket producing two condoms.  He crosses over to the bed his eyes completely locked on Dean.  His Sammy drops the borrowed shorts to the hardwood before climbing up on the silk sheets.  In a deep guttural growl, “Now, please.”

Dean’s cock surges with a rush of blood making him pant in hunger.   His mind is set free to play with his Sam.  He strips down to just his black boxer briefs.  His puppy watches him with a dark wanting stare leaving Dean breathless.  Sauntering over to a tall thin cabinet, he pulls out a long metal bar about three feet in length.  Catching the smile from Sam he begins to set the cuffs in place.

Dean takes the bar over to the bed.  He smacks Sam hard on the ass, just enough to leave a sting, “On your stomach legs apart.”

He takes each of Sam’s ankles binding them to the bar with soft fury cuffs.  His voice is solid and domineering, “Tell me the safe word.”

Every muscle in Sam’s body relaxes as he sighs, “Lawrence.”

Dean locks eyes with his puppy so he can gage his reaction to the following question, “Where does your work shirt fall on your arm?”

Sam knows where this is going, and with a drunken grin on his face, he draws a line across each bicep.  The master makes a mental note as to where his stopping point should be so that all the marks can remain hidden. 

Again Dean smacks that delectable ass, “Ass in the air. Elbows between your knees. Wrists to the bar.”

The man complies to Dean’s request with unabashed eagerness.  The master takes a soft, cotton, red rope, tying the puppy’s wrists to the center of the bar.  Draping himself over Sam, allowing his weight to pull the restraints taught, nipping at the man’s skin, he places his lips to his boy’s ear, “You were such a good puppy when you said the safe word.  You made me so proud.  Would you like a reward?”

Sammy’s face is pressed against the sheets of the bed but he can still respond in a muffled, “Yes, please.”

Dean rises from his puppy, giving him a reprieve from the nipping of his bindings.  However, he moves at a snail’s pace, kissing the supple skin of Sam’s back.  He keeps the loving touches as he reaches his butt cheeks.  Then he lets his tongue drift down the crack of Sam’s ass.  A deep moan of pleasure is the only sound Dean hears, and it encourages him to keep going.  Using his hands to spread Sam open for him he devours that sweet boy’s hole, licking and sucking until he hears his puppy screaming, as his climax builds. Reaching between Sam’s thighs, he gives his cock two rough tugs, watching as the waves of his orgasm releases cum to the sheets below.  Right at the very second his sweet boy goes over the edge, Dean bites into an ass cheek harshly, leaving an imprint of his teeth.  A shocked yelp comes from above as the master quickly moves to the other cheek biting it as well.  He then suckles Sam’s balls like they were a dripping ice cream cone.  He can practically hear the other man’s eyes roll back in his head, as sheer ecstasy sweeps through his body.  Once he has him lost in bliss, he bounces up, sinking his teeth into his giant’s shoulder blade.  Once again, a loud yelp explodes into the silent room as Dean switches to the top of Sam’s shoulder for another nibble.  He works the pattern of suckles and kisses mixed with quick bites for quite some time.

When Sam’s back is littered with blossoming red teeth marks, the master climbs atop his gentle beast once again, using his own weight to pull at the cuffs and rope.  Dean’s cock is leaking and begging for release now.  He reaches over, grabbing the condom that was tossed aside, ripping open the foil wrapper with is mouth.  He rises to his knees, lowering his boxer briefs to just below his balls.  He secures the Trojan in place before grabbing the lube next to the bed.  He drips the slick solution on his fingers before penetrating the digits into his sweet boy’s ass. 

Sam cries out, “Fuck!”

Removing his fingers, he thrusts his dick deeply into Sam’s hole.  With a gingerly roll to his hips, he rides his sweet puppy.  As they both approach the impending finish line, Dean stretches forward, sinking his teeth into the tip of Sam’s shoulder while simultaneously bucking into his prostrate.  Sam shouts once more, “Fuck!” as they both cum hard, leaving them breathless and panting.

Dean immediately liberates Sam’s wrists and ankles, dropping the equipment to clang on the floor.  He yanks a crème silk sheet around Sam surrounding him with the soft supple material and his own strong arms.  They lie together winded and spent.

Later, Dean rolls Sam on his stomach.  He uses his hands and body to message the other man’s mountain of muscles.  He pauses occasionally to apply antibiotic ointment to any open wounds.  His adorable puppy just lies silently absorbing the tender care from his master.

Nearly thirty minutes later, Dean cuts into their quiet reprieve, “What’s your roommates name again?”

Sam turns, jerking Dean to lay on top of him, their foreheads touching, “Jess, why?”

“I need to send her flowers.”

Dean’s jolly giant releases a loud, heartwarming laugh.


	9. Chapter 9

They leave for work on time, but Sam wants Dean to drop him off at the corner.  This does not sit well with Dean.  “It’s not a big deal, Sam.  I’m not kicking you out of the car, a block away, like some street walker.”

They stop at a light and Sam makes his wishes very clear, “I am not showing up for work late riding in the CEO’s car smelling like his body wash.  People will notice, and I’m new.  Please, Dean? It would make me more comfortable to walk in like I took the bus.”

The master’s mistake is to glimpse at his sweet puppy before finalizing the negotiation, because he is hammered by soft begging hazel eyes.  Dean relents knowing the battle is lost, “fine, if that’s the way you want it, I will act like I don’t even know you at the office.”

Sam nods his head puffing air in a frustrated act, “Thank you.  That is exactly what I want. Just treat me like the new hire you barely know.  After we get our relationship settled outside of work then we can create one inside too.  Deal?”

“Fine, but tonight, we are going shopping.”

Sam gazes over at Dean with a look of confusion, “Why are we going shopping?”

The CEO pulls the Aston Martin over to the curb as he winks seductively, “I remember someone saying he wanted a collar?”

Sam blushes at the remark he made the night before.  “I was kidding.”

“So you don’t want a collar?”

The other man opens the car door but pauses before exiting, “Is this going to happen every time I wish for something?”

“Is what going to happen?”

Sam looks back at Dean with a questioning glare, “That I mention something, and within a week you buy it for me?”

Dean understands that he needs to tread lightly here.  Of course his first reaction is to say hell yes.  Sam should have everything, and anything he needs, the second he asks.  However, this is not what Sam is telling him.  “Look, I enjoy making you happy.  This includes buying you things so that massive smile shines like the sun, but if you don’t want it, just tell me.  No harm done.”

He can tell that his sweet boy is weighing his options before he turns, giving Dean a sweet kiss on the lips.  “Yes, I would like a collar.”  Sam jumps from the car but before he shuts the door he laughs saying, “and a new car.”  Thinking he has made a real funny, his puppy explodes in giggles as he shuts the door.

A sly grin appears on Dean’s face, “Joke’s on you Sammy, when the black Audi shows up at your door next week.”  He then mimics Sam’s laughing face, as he pulls from the curb headed for the parking garage.

 

***

The day has gone painfully slow.  Dean just wants to throw his puppy in the car, and find a diamond jeweler that makes collars.  He makes a mental note to do some internet research before he meets Sam at the coffee shop after work. 

He’s just returning back to the office after a meeting uptown, when he steps into the elevator.  It takes every ounce of will power to not smile and kiss his puppy.  Glancing to his right he notices Ms. Tran standing in the far corner.  Man that woman can hide anywhere and she by far is the office gossip or at least according to Charlie. 

The doors close, and Sam turns to him, “Do I know you?”

God, Sam wants to play? Well fuck that! Dean is going to play.  He sigh’s a hint of boredom in his voice, “I don’t think so.”

He can feel the waves of enjoyment rolling off his jolly giant, as Ms. Tran watches from the corner.  “I’m sorry man you just look really familiar.”

The usual ding rings out and Dean decides to get off with Ms. Tran.  “Save it for the health club pal.”  It’s all Dean can muster without busting out in laughter, as he leaves his sweet boy perplexed, standing alone in the elevator.  He immediately has to turn around to catch the next one but Sam’s face was priceless.  However, before it arrives Ms. Tran is tugging at his sleeve.

“You need to marry that one Mr. Smith.  He’s a good boy.”  She winks and heads off to her office in HR.  Dean stands shocked and impressed, because you can’t hide much from Ms. Tran.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Suicide attempt reference and discussion

Dean can barely contain his excitement as he is forced to survive through another dull conference call.  He keeps texting his assistant, Kevin to bring it in the moment the package arrives.  It has been two weeks since they created a stunning puppy collar for his sweet boy.  He was irate that the piece would take so long to complete, but Sam calmed him down with those beautiful hazel eyes, placing his hand into Deans and squeezing lightly.  It was a couple of days later when Dean decided to make a big thing over their time together, and the new apparel.  He has an amazing night planned for his sweet Sammy.

Dean ignores the chatter from the speaker phone as his memories drift over the past few weeks with his Sam.  It has been a blur of supple skin, orgasms, smiles and laughter.  Dean can’t remember the last time he felt this good.  They are sticking to the familiar ground rules; they don’t sleep over.  That rule is Dean’s.  He still isn’t ready to roll over in the morning, his Sammy curled up next to him.  He wants to be, Oh dear God how he wants to be, but he’s not and he knows it.  Sam has been great about it just leaving each night with a chaste kiss.  Then of course every Saturday morning Sam is off to Austin, not returning until Sunday night.  This one works both ways for Dean, on one hand he still gets his Saturday jog to visit Ash but the way Sam returns like someone broke him while he was away.  It more than worries his master it also scares him. 

The CEO is pondering that fear when there is a soft knock at the door.  It opens a crack just enough so Kevin can poke his head in smiling.  Dean waves the younger man into the room silently pointing to the phone as really old guys drone on about fourth quarter returns.  Kevin places a black box wrapped with a single white bow in front of him.  A thrill of excitement rushes through the master as he shoos the nosey kid out the door.  Disappointed he won’t get to glimpse the contents of the stunningly wrapped package, Kevin quickly turns on his heels and exits the room.

Once he is alone, Dean unbinds the silk bow from the box, removing the lid so he can peer inside.  He traces the circular piece with his fingers, tilting forward so he can smell the leather.  God, the scent is intoxicating as it envelops Dean’s nostrils.  The collar itself is made from soft, pliable, dark brown leather to match Sam’s hair.  Two diamond studs stand in the center with an infinity sign burned into the material surrounding the jewels, representing he and Sam together forever.  It seemed a little over the top at first, but when the designer suggested it, Sam’s eyes lit up like the fourth of July.  After that it didn’t matter. Sam was going to have exactly what he wanted.

The conference ends with assignments and well wishes.  Dean glances at his cell acknowledging that it was only 10am he doesn’t know how he is going to make it the next 10 hours.  The CEO is flipping on his laptop to return some e-mails when “Smoke on the Water” begins to fill the silent office.  With a quick glance Dean’s excitement escalates at his plans for tonight.

“Hey, Ellen the gift just got here.  I cannot wait…”

Ellen’s gravelly voice cuts into his happiness, “Dean.  I need you to come by the club, maybe for lunch?”

Dean notes the serious aloof tone which sets of all kinds of alarms.  “Why?  I will see you tonight can we talk then?”

There is an exaggerated pause making Dean extremely nervous.  “No, something has happened and we need to sit down …”

Vile is rising in Dean’s throat making it hard to speak, “Is Sam okay?”

Dean is actually about to open the door, screaming for Kevin to track down Sam when Ellen’s reply sends an icy chill over his skin.  “It’s Cas.”

Every muscle in his body goes rigid, “I thought he was doing better.  You said he was fine.”

“He tried to hurt himself again last night and they recommitted him.”  The strong master suddenly can’t breathe, so he crumples to the floor, right there in the middle of the office.  This cannot be happening.  Today is his special day with Sam.  “Dean, let’s talk about this in person.  Dean?”

He shakes his head trying to find a way to breathe again. “Fine I can be there in twenty minutes.”

****

He’s not even sure how he got there but he finds himself standing in front of Ellen’s door.  Right as he finally brings himself to knock, the door swings open and Ellen is embracing him.  The sobbing tears catch Dean off guard.  The second she took him into her arms he just let everything go.  The smell of Ellen’s whiskey, smoke-filled aroma just heaves Dean further into his sorrow.

Ten minutes later, Dean has finally calmed down enough that Ellen is able to situate him in an overstuffed leather chair.  She takes the one facing him, and her hands continue to hold his as she struggles to find the right words.

“It’s not your fault honey.”

Dean takes back his hands, using them to wipe away the moisture from his cheeks, “How in God’s name is this not my fault Ellen?”

Ellen releases a deep sigh as her shoulders sag, “Dean you can’t save everyone.  Ash had terminal cancer.  There was nothing you could do, and Cas, well…”

His eyes are swollen with grief but the rage behind them is ferocious, “Castiel is on my shoulders Ellen.  I should have done more before…”

She smacks his leg leaving a sting, “You stop that right now.  Do you fucking understand me?  When you and Cas started seeing each other, he understood this was not a permanent situation.  You were a mess after Ash died.  Between the drinking and self-destructive behavior, you were living in hell.  He made it his personal mission to raise you from perdition and he succeeded. God bless him and his angelic soul because against the odds he did it.  You were with him for almost three years.  He got too attached to something that was never his to begin with, and was unprepared when it ended.”

“I owe Cas everything, and how do I repay him? By leaving his ass.”

Ellen rises to pour a whiskey.  “Your relationship with Cas was always meant to be a therapeutic one.  I was very clear with him from the beginning.  You are not a submissive, but at the time you needed a person to step in and take control.  It’s nobody’s fault.  Cas just didn’t handle it well.”

The anger bubbles over as Dean yells, “He fucking jumped off a bridge into the Trinity River after we broke up!  I think saying he didn’t handle it well is a real understatement Ellen!”

She swallows the three finger hard liquor in one gulp. “Cas has deeply rooted issues that led to his swan dive.  We all had no idea before it was too late.  Now you need to take this information, store it away, and don’t let it mess up what you have with Sam.”

He can’t even think about Sam right now, “Where is he Ellen?”

She strolls over to her desk, perching herself on her office chair before lighting a cigar.  “Dean, I think you need to just let the Doctors take care of him.”

Dean heads for the door, “Where is he Ellen?”

“He’s back at Green Oaks.”

He doesn’t even look back. He just walks to his car, lost in the pain.

Green Oaks Psychiatric Hospital is on the other side of Dallas.  It takes very little time before Dean is sitting in his car, looking up at the weathered building.  The last time Dean spoke with Cas was right in this hospital, more than 8 months ago.  It was part of his therapy to find closure with Dean.  A few months later, they released him.  Ellen kept Dean in the loop on his re-entry into society.  She even made a schedule so Cas and Dean could enjoy the club but never cross paths. 

Dean was in a really bad place when Ellen introduced him to Castiel.  He could not get over Ash and he dashed down the path to self destruction in the hopes of being with him again.  Cas became his Dom. He showed Dean everything about using the lack of control to release the sorrow.  Dean truly believes that Cas saved him from himself, calling the older man his angel on occasion. The problem came when Dean grew stronger, ready to step out on his own.  Ellen said from the start that this was a way to re-build the broken soul inside.  She was right, but when Dean stopped having sessions with Cas it all went to shit.

There are only two people in the world Dean has ever said he loved.  Ash was the love of his life from the time he was five.  A love like that you never really get over, but Cas helped him to find a reason to live.  Dean loves Cas with every part of him, but they just couldn’t make it work.  Dean rubs the scruff on his face as his thoughts fall to someone else that is growing on him.  Dean’s not ready to say he loves Sam, but life without him seems not worth living.  He exhales deeply before he heads in to check on his ex lover.

****

Cas has the same Doctor as before, so they quickly allow Dean entrance into the ward.  He stops in the doorway just staring at those gorgeous blue eyes.  Cas is painting at a station in the day room.  He is unaware of Dean’s presence, so he takes a minute just to admire him.  He looks good except for the thick white bandages around his wrists.  Learning from his previous mistake, his angel took a more traditional approach.

A soft grin spreads across Castiel’s face, “I know you are there Dean.”

The CEO is quite startled by the revelation, “What’s new Cas?”

The other man raises his wrists pointing to the white fabric, “I have added accessories since the last time I saw you.”

Dean meanders over, shaking his head, “Cas that’s not really a joking matter.”

The dark haired man with stunning blue eyes finally puts down his brush, turning to face Dean, “Honestly that’s all I’ve got left, humor.

“You have a lot of nice qualities, humor is one of many my friend.”

Castiel drops his head to one side with a perplexed look on his face, “I haven’t been your friend for quite a while.”

The words are true, but that doesn’t make them sting any less. Dean has kept his distance from Cas.  In his mind, he was doing the guy a favor.  He is slowly seeing the error of his ways.  Dean had been selfish and look what it caused, but maybe this is his second chance.  “I will always be a friend.”

He rises, moving gradually, until he stands toe to toe with Dean, “Feeling guilty, are we Mr. Smith?”  The dark disdain in his words is evident and intentional.  “Why don’t you go back to your new puppy?”  He doesn’t even wait for Dean to respond he simply waves over an orderly.  “I’m tired. May I go to my room now?”

Then he was gone.  Dean watches him leave with a face full of shock.  Did he just make a reference about Sam?  Is that why he tried again? Because Dean had moved on?  He has so many questions, and yet standing in an empty room wasn’t going to answer any of them.  He needs alcohol, lots and lots of hard alcohol.

****

It’s just before 3pm by the time Dean gets back to his penthouse with the two bottles of bourbon.  He walks into the kitchen with the intention of drinking it properly from a tumbler.  In the end, he just doesn’t care, “Fuck it.”  He turns the bottle upside down, letting the liquor burn his throat.

Five hours later, Dean has finished half the bottle.  He is lying on the floor in his living room, deciding how he can get to the club.  His sweet puppy would be there all alone.  It takes him several minutes to secure his cell from his pants, which are now draped over the couch.  He was not sure when that happened but it doesn’t really matter. 

While he drank, Dean had put together a speech for Sam.  Explaining why it would be in Sam’s best interest to leave him now.  He is a poison that literally killed and/or destroyed the men he loved.  While he attempts dialing Sam’s number, he mumbles the same sentence over and over, “Get out now before it’s too late.”


	11. Chapter 11

Sam is buzzing with delight over the anticipation for tonight.  Dean has kept the festivities hush-hush, but he is very aware that they will culminate in presents and orgasms.  Both of which the towering man loves.  Being the object of Dean Smith’s affections takes some adjustments.  The gifts are over the top in Sam’s mind, and extremely lavish; however, it makes him feel that much more special.  Sam has had Dom’s who enjoyed gift giving before, but usually small trips or fancy dinners.  He laughs to himself as he pulls his brand new, black Audi A6 into the valet at the Rode House.

It was a week ago today that Sam walked out of his building to catch a ride with Jess for work.  There was his breathtaking master, dripping in sexuality, leaning against his brand new car.  As Sam approached, Dean tossed him the keys saying, “I need a ride to work Sammy.”  His first reaction was to give them back. He didn’t deserve such an amazing gift.  Then he saw the smile on Dean’s face.  That warm loving smile was for him.  His heart skipped a beat as he brought his master in for a passionate, deep kiss.  It wasn’t until the next day that Sam found the registration paperwork in the glove box.  Not only was the car completely paid for, but Dean had put it in his name.  Sam couldn’t return it even if he wanted too.  Which of course, was Dean’s plan all along.

He finally reaches the stand as the valet guy opens the door for him, “Good evening Mr. Wesson.”  Sam nods, slightly embarrassed, as he heads to the entrance of the club.  He glances over at the line forming outside of the Rode House, remembering a time when he was one of them.  Now, the rope is lifted before he even reaches it, the bouncer stepping out of his way seamlessly, “Mr. Wesson nice to see you again.” 

Sam has no idea how to deal with the sudden change in his status.  Dean and Ellen have gone to great lengths to remind everyone who Sam belongs too.  He never waits for anything, which at times makes Sam uncomfortable.  The gentle man just wants to hide in the background, but dating Dean makes that extremely difficult. There is always guilt that someone like him doesn’t deserve any of it.  That when his actions in Austin come to light. He will lose Dean, but he will never give up his tender master without a fight.  Watching Dean’s face light up as he enters a room makes all the horrors fade away.  Shaking his thoughts clear of all that’s wrong in his life, he double times it up the black staircase to the second floor.  Sam is scanning the area when his heart sinks.  There are no emerald green eyes staring back at him, attached to a charismatic killer grin. 

He is about to head to the bar when his phone vibrates in his pocket.  Sam is relieved to see Dean’s number on the caller ID.  With a cheerful heartfelt grin, “Hey Dean, where are you I just got here?”

There is only silence.  Sam plugs his open ear hoping it’s just a bad connection.  “Dean.  Are you there?  Dean.”  Then he hears soft delicate weeping.  The sound rips at his soul, “Are you okay?”

Through the sniffles, Sam makes out just a few words.  “I’m poison…..get out…….late.  Save…...poison.”

The terror of the situation is causing Sam to literally spin in circles.  His tender, astounding lover is in pain.  Sam yells into the cell, “Dean, where are you?”

The reply is muffled but Sam can just make out, “Home.”

He takes off in a run towards the exit, screaming when he hits the valet line, “I need my car now!”

The valet guys scatter, actually frightened by the intense anger radiating from the large gentleman.  While he waits he tries to pull more information from his master, “Dean what’s wrong?”

“Dean are you okay?”

“I’m coming now.”

“Dean!”

The entire drive to Dean’s building he leaves the line open but never hears a response.

***

He circles the block three times trying to find a parking spot before completely giving up.  He guns the accelerator jumping the curb and leaves the Audi on the front lawn of Dean’s building. He hands the car keys to the door attendant as he releases the elevator so it will go to the top floor.  Thank God Dean has left an all access pass, or he may never have made it.  Sam finds the front door unlocked as he lets himself into the penthouse.

The smell of vomit hits him first.  It’s strong and forces Sam to breathe through his mouth.  He discovers Dean in the living room, face down in his own puke.  This sends a wave of panic over him as he fears his master may have aspirated on the mess.  Dropping to his knees slipping a little in the slick floor he heaves Dean up so he they are face to face.  “Dean!!  Look at me.  Dean!!”

He shakes his master several times in desperation. Finally there is a cough as Dean’s eyes flop open.  “Sammy.  You can’t be here I’m poison.”

Sam hurriedly wipes the nasty substance from Dean’s face as he calms, realizing that his lover is alive.  “Jesus Christ Dean, you scared the hell out of me.”

Dean’s consciousness fades as Sam swings him up over his right shoulder carrying him to the bathroom.  He props the comatose man against the tub, as Sam starts to run the water.  Quickly he sees that the extra large tub has ample room for two grown men, even him.  He checks the temperature again before removing his own clothes.  Once he is happy with the water level, he shuts off the water and gently eases Dean out of his own puke-stained apparel.  He lets him slump to the floor while he takes the soiled mess to the laundry room, tossing them in the washing machine.  When he returns he notices that Dean hasn’t moved a muscle from his haphazard pile on the tile.  However, he is still breathing which keeps Sam composed and together.

He takes Dean into his arms, bridal style, and steps into the warm water.  Sam squats, resting his master’s body onto his lap, letting his head fall onto his chest.  Gingerly, the giant washes Dean’s hair, taking extra care not to get anything in those gorgeous green eyes.  Using his long arms, he reaches Dean’s toothbrush because that is really the worst part.  Having him like this completely vulnerable tugs at Sam’s heart strings.  He’s enjoying the moment; the chance to be the caretaker means the world to him.  This amazing human being is his to nurse, to be with, and to love forever.  Feeling a surge of emotion Sam brings his lips to Dean’s ear, “I love you.” 

The gentle giant is sad when the water cools and it’s time to retreat.  He wraps his master in a fluffy white towel, making sure his hair is dry.  Then he carries him into the bedroom.  He remembers that Dean has a major issue with sleepovers, but Sam can’t bring himself to leave, not yet anyway.  He covers Dean with the soft, worn cotton sheets, slightly surprised they aren’t silk.  He takes his long lanky arms and legs, enfolding Dean in a Sam burrito.

Sam spends the next hour exploring Dean’s skin with his fingers.  He is busy tracing every detail of this beautiful man, placing everything to memory, when suddenly Dean stirs.  “Sammy?”

Dean snuggles deeper into puppy’s embrace, “Yes, Dean I’m here.”

The words are stifled, “I’m poison. Don’t let me hurt you.”

He strokes his master’s hair, “I won’t.”

Dean lifts his head peering directly at Sam, “Good, you are too important.”

Sam tugs him down into his embrace, “You’re important too, Dean.”

“I’m serious you should leave now before I suck you in forever.”

 Then Dean kisses Sam.  Their lips open as their tongues find each other caressing softly.  Sam smirks as Dean drops his head to the pillow once more.  He doesn’t understand why Dean Smith chose him.  He’s a nobody from nowhere, and yet this God of the video gaming industry is lying curled up in his arms.  This is where Sam wants to be for the rest of his life.

The overgrown puppy grazes his lips against his master’s cheek, “too late.”  He returns to tracing every inch of his skin, as soft gentle words escape, “I won’t ever leave.  You are beautiful….lovely…kind…..amazing….and mine.”

A few minutes later, a snore fills the silent bedroom.  He peppers Dean’s face with soothing, light kisses, a massive grin on his own face.  Sam decides he should turn his attention to the horrid mess in the living room.  He takes some shorts from the floor as he strides into the other room. 

He is desperately trying to keep his own dinner down as he scrubs the rancid vomit from the expensive Oriental rug, when he hears a buzzing noise.  He searches for the source discovering Dean’s cell phone vibrating under the couch.  He reads the caller ID: Green Oaks.  Curiosity gets the better of him as he answers, “Hello.”  

 


	12. Chapter 12

A soft rattle from the nightstand wakes Dean from a deep heavy sleep.  His eyes are dry, and it feels like someone has pasted them shut.  Without thinking about it, he reaches over grasping his phone.  “Hello.”

A very timid, mousy voice replies, “Yes, Good Morning Mr. Smith. I have Gadreel here. He says you are late for an appointment?”

Dean is fighting a massive throbbing head as he glances at the alarm clock, 6:05am.  “Tell him to charge me and go have an early breakfast I won’t be down.”

“Also, one more thing sir?”

His patience is waning quickly he needs like a gallon of water and an aspirin. “Yes, make it quick.”

“Can you please let Mr. Wesson know his car has been moved to the guest parking spot next to yours, and the keys are here at the front lobby desk?”  There is a pause while Dean desperately tries to figure out what the hell happened last night.  “Would you possibly consider letting him have a key card to access the garage?  His unique parking choice upset the gardening staff.”

“Fine.  Have one ready in an hour, and put his name on the spot next to mine.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Last night is a complete blank but he vaguely remembers Sam arriving at some point.  He is suddenly aware that not only is he naked, but there is no sign of his Sammy.  Dean rubs the scruff on his face while he tries to put together the puzzle of the previous night, “Where the fuck did you park your car Sam?”

He examines the room and doesn’t see any hint that Sam is still here, but where would he go without his car?  Dean swings his feet over the side of his bed, when he notices the large man sound asleep on his floor.  A proud smile dances across his face as he hesitates for a moment, taking in the beautiful breathtaking view.  His sweet puppy slept on the floor next to him last night.  He tip toes over the slumbering giant, heading for water and painkillers.

Fifteen minutes later he is rehydrated and his headache is subsiding.  His conversation with Cas at Green Oaks is weighing heavily on his shoulders.  Dean is a slave to the conflict between the guilt of his angel, and the desire for his puppy.  In the end the soft, supple skin with the pouty pink lips, win as he approaches his dozing lover.

He sinks down to the floor.  Crouching on all fours, he stalks his stunning prey.  Dean reaches the corner of the throw blanket enveloping his sweet boy.  Gradually so not to wake him, Dean tugs the fabric towards him.  Once Sam’s skin is free to his eyes, the master continues crawling over the man.  Sam is lying on his side, his feet tucked in the fetal position.  When Dean reaches his own running shorts, hiding that delicious ass, he leisurely draws them off those lovely hips running them down supple thighs.

Sam begins to stir as he gazes down at Dean.  Never breaking the connection of their stare Sam rolls onto his back opening those magical legs inviting his master home.  Dean tosses the shorts aside, licking his lips, deciding what delectable spot he should start with first.  Placing a hand on each of his puppy’s knees, he drifts his fingers downward drawing circles with his fingers.  Then as his fingers linger on those rock hard abs, Dean lowers his tongue to that stiff cock.  The only sound is the gasp that escapes Sam’s mouth, as a low moan leaves it next.  

Dean licks up and down Sam’s shaft, stopping periodically to kiss and suckle the silky baby skin.  The master is astray in the salty flavor when he hears two words exhaled in hush tones, “Restrain me.”

He spies Sam glancing towards the nightstand.  A wicked, naughty grin builds on Dean’s face. He doesn’t even question how Sam knows what’s inside the top drawer.  He creeps up his puppy’s body, littering light kisses as he moves.  When he reaches those marvelous lips, he devours them like a hungry lion.  Their lips are caressing each other as Dean pulls the knob, revealing the sharp metal handcuffs inside.

Sadly removing a hand from Sam’s skin, he captures them between his fingers, lowering them in front of his sweet boy’s face.  He is rewarded as the other man smiles with a wanting pant. 

“These will mark you.”  His statement is lead with a questioning face for his baby boy.

Sam growls as he nips Dean’s collarbone with his teeth whispering, “Restrain me, please.”

 Although Dean was already rigid, those words made his dick throb harder with desire.  He immediately flips Sam onto his stomach wrenching his arms behind him placing the cuffs on each wrist.  “This will be quick, I have a meeting at 8am.”

His sweet boy just lifts his hips, rubbing that perfect ass against his thigh.  Dean grabs the lube from the nightstand, squirting the solution onto his fingertips.  He uses two digits to penetrate his Sam, observing how the sweet boy groans, thrusting his hole further onto his lover’s hand.  The master slowly opens up his puppy as he uses his free hand to stroke those strapping, well-made shoulders.  Then he takes a condom, ripping open the foil wrapper, spitting it to the floor.  After the slicker is on, Dean takes the chains to the handcuffs into his hand.  As he plunges deep into his sweet boy, he yanks harshly on the cuffs.  Sam cries out with an exotic rush of pleasure and pain.

Dean lifts Sam’s hips up in the air moving between the sweet boys knees, forcing Sam’s face into the carpet, muffling his moans.  He rides the puppy, heaving in and out while timing his jerks to the cuffs perfectly.  As the thrusts become more severe, so do the bitter tugs of metal nipping at Sam’s wrists.  The master uses his unused hand to reach around, grasping Sam’s cock tugging tightly.  Moments later the two men reach climax with deep throated wails.  Dean is so adrift in his own orgasm, he almost misses Sam’s final word as he cums all over the carpet.  “Dean!”

 They lay for several minutes in a heap of legs and arms on the carpet.  The panting of their own mouths the only sound before Dean removes the cuffs rubbing the marked wrists.  “I don’t think we broke the skin but you are going to have bruises.”

Sam’s eyes are still closed a sloppy grin on his face, “I don’t care.  I want to touch them and think of you.”

Dean leans in, kissing his sweet Sam chastely on the lips.  He then pulls his puppy onto his lap, holding him tight stroking his silky smooth skin.  “You are mine, Sammy.”

The comment just makes the goofy grin grow into the most beautiful smile, taking Dean’s breathe away.  “Good.  I’m here for the long haul Dean.  No trying to get rid of me.”

A few flashes of his words last night race through Dean’s mind.  “I’m sorry about last night.  I had some really bad news, and I didn’t handle it well.  Thank you for…”

Sam doesn’t let him finish, as his lips ravage Dean in a needy harsh kiss.  When he finally pulls from Dean, “You are welcome.  Now I think we both need a shower.”

Dean follows his naughty puppy into the shower, thanking God that it fits two.

****

They are strolling hand in hand through the garage when Dean freezes, staring with his mouth open at the black Audi A6.  “Holy Shit Sam, what did you do to your car?”

The brand new vehicle is covered in mud, with chunks of grass peeking out of the wheels.  Sam bursts out laughing, “I couldn’t find a spot on the street, so I parked it on the front lawn.”

Dean’s eyes practically bug out of his eyes, “You parked a 43,000 dollar car on the lawn of my building?”

This wipes the smirk off of Sam’s face really quick, “That car costs how much?”

“It doesn’t matter. I have reserved this spot for you.  Here are your keys, and there is a key fob to access the garage, and will give you elevator privileges to the penthouse.  If we had the time, I would turn you over my knee.”

Standing behind his car, he unlocks the Aston Martin with his clicker, pointing to the passenger side, “Get in. I’m driving you to work.  I’ll have a detailer out while we are gone to clean up the Audi.”

Sam gives a mischievous grin as he drags his finger over Dean’s tie, “Can I have my spanking later?”

Dean’s dick responds with a twinge of delight, as he glimpses at his watch.  There is just not time, if he is going to make it to his first meeting of the day.  He drops his briefcase to the cement as he heaves Sam into the bumper of his car.  He ravages his puppy with a deep kiss full of tongue and teeth before pulling back, “Yes, I think a spanking will be in order later.  Get in the car now.”

Sam doesn’t even flinch, he just whizzes around to the passenger side, jumping in like a good boy.  Grabbing his leather case, he gets in taking just a moment to push the leather bracelet on Sam’s wrist to the side.  He gingerly kisses the deep red marks before starting the car and pulling out of the space.   As the Aston Martin speeds out of the parking garage, Dean notices the disturbed dirt on the front lawn.  He begins cackling to himself as he continues to rub the developing bruises on Sam’s skin.

The car stops at a light when a thought tugs at Dean’s mind, “You have been very compliant this morning is there a reason?” Sam just shrugs as he gazes out the window, “Nope just want to make you happy.”

There is something in the way he says this that causes some alarms to go off, but Dean really doesn’t have the time to get into it.  “Do you want me to drop you off at the corner?”

His sweet boy just shakes his head, “I’m good.  I have to get my work clothes from your assistant anyway.  I will just ride in with you.  Is that okay?”

Dean gives a short nod as a quizzical look builds on his face, “Of course, why the change of heart?  You have been dead set against riding in my car to work.”

“Things change.”  Sam takes Dean’s hand as he interlaces their fingers placing a gentle kiss to each digit.

Dean files the comment away as he pulls into the parking garage.


	13. Chapter 13

Around noon, Kevin brings in his lunch, “You are free until 1:30pm then you will need to leave for the 2:00pm with prospective buyers.”

Dean just nods.  There is an investment group that has been hounding him about purchasing several of his properties in Dallas.  It’s not something he has considered before, but last week he decided to take the meeting and see what their offer was going to be.  He’s busy drooling over an amazing bacon cheeseburger when Charlie comes in, sitting on the edge of his desk.

“Hey, do you have Anna’s number?”

Slightly annoyed by her intrusion, Dean sighs, “Like Rode House Anna?”

Charlie attempts at playing it cool, but Dean can see the little grin creeping up her face, “Yeah, that one.  She’s usually hanging out with Ellen.  Thought maybe you would have her number?”

“I think there may be a reason she’s always hanging out with Ellen?”

A giggle erupts from his friend, “I think that ended a while ago.  Number please?”

Realizing he will never get to his happy burger heaven, he pulls out his cell.  “I think she called me a couple of days ago.  Let me check my recent calls.”

His breath catches in his throat as he sees an incoming call from the previous night.  He can’t process what’s before him, so he taps on the number; Green Oaks.  The call information comes up and Dean’s heart stops.  Last night, someone from the psych hospital called him, but the part that sends his stomach into somersaults is that the call duration is 34 minutes at 11:00pm.  He was long gone by that point, and Sam was definitely there.

“Charlie, I don’t see it.  Why don’t you ask Kevin?  I’m sure he has it somewhere.”

Thank God she is so preoccupied with her own budding romance, that she doesn’t notice his hands shaking.  “Okay then.  Catch ya later.”

“Hey, shut the door on your way out will ya.”  She nods closing it behind her.

The instance he hears the click of the lock, Dean is dialing a certain Tech Support extension.

“Tech Support, this is Sam Wesson.”

Dean can’t control the fear and anger boiling as one from his voice, “I need to see you in my office.  Now!”  He doesn’t even wait for a response before hanging up the phone.

Less than five minutes later, his Sam is slipping through the doorway with a grin.  Clearly the giant thinks he’s in there for an afternoon spanking and delight.  The smirk disappears the second his eyes reach Dean’s.  Dean is in full dominant mode as he instructs his puppy, “Close the door and lock it.”

As Sam completes his task, Dean pulls over a chair to the center of his office.  “Kneel at my feet.”

Once his darling boy is in place Dean’s voice goes dark and sultry, “I’m going to ask you some questions Sam.  I want total honesty, do you understand?”

Perching on his knees below his master Sam whispers, “Yes, sir.”

His eyes are stone cold giving nothing away, “Who did you talk to last night?”

The reaction to the question is slight but Dean caught it, he waits to see where Sam will go with it.  “A man named Castiel.”

Good he answered correctly.  Dean reaches out and strokes puppy on his head three times.  “Why did you answer my phone?”

There is no hesitation in his reply, “I was curious as to who would be calling you that late at night.”

“Yes, good boy.”  Dean strokes Sam’s hair another three times.  “What did you talk about with him?”

Sam exhales slowly as his shoulders slump forward, “He knew my name, and the nature of our relationship.  Told me that a year ago he was your dom, and that you broke it off.  I’m not sure he was entirely with it, because he kept saying that the ghost in the graveyard will always win.  One comment really stayed with me though, ‘dead men tell no tales, but sometimes they are still part of the story.’”

Dean is not only caught off guard by the honesty of both men, but by his own fear that Cas is totally right, “Good boy. Thank you.”  He absentmindedly pets him for several minutes before Sam speaks up.

“Is the ghost Ash?”

 Suddenly the master has lost his voice, as he simply nods his head yes. He wants to deny Castiel’s accusation, but he can’t.  Tears are flooding his eyes, as the truth blinds Dean in sorrow.  Without warning, Sam is crawling into his lap, wrapping him in big burly arms. “Shhh.  It’s okay.  We will be fine.”  There is a long pause as Dean cries in his puppy’s arms.  “Do you still want me forever?”

This sends a jolt through Dean’s entire soul.  His voice discovers a new found strength.  “Yes.  Sam you are mine.”

Sam removes his watch, and the leather bracelet revealing the bruises.  He brings each wrist up to Dean’s mouth.  The master leans in kissing each one tenderly.  Slowly Sam rises, removing all his clothes folding each item and placing them upon the desk.  Then he returns to his knees at Dean’s feet.  “I am yours.” 

Dean yanks the large well-defined shoulders over his lap pulling until Sam’s ass is in the perfect position.  The master raises his hand and swings harshly, striking the bare bottom.  “You are mine.”

He slaps his soft, sweet ass again.  “You are mine.”

Dean can feel Sam’s cock against his leg growing stiff with need.  He will attend to that soon enough.  He swings again, hitting the same spot for a third time.  “You are mine.”

After a few more smacks, the skin is red and welting.  “Say it.”

There is a shudder of excitement as Sam retorts, “I am yours Dean.”

He dips to Sam’s ear with a breathy dark tone, “ ~~A~~ lways?”  He poses it as an inquiry.

Every muscle in his sweet boys body relaxes as he echo’s, “ ~~A~~ lways.”

Dean massages the tender skin as he repeats, “Good boy, my boy, my Sammy.”

He exhales, bringing in the joyful sunny disposition that is his sweet puppy.  “Okay, you have had your spanking, and you were honest about the call with Cas.  Stand up.”

Immediately Sam obeys.  Dean rises, taking the other man’s chin into his tight grip.  “No secrets, do you understand?  I know you still have a couple in Austin, and I am willing to overlook them for now.  But here in Dallas, between us no more secrets do you understand?”

Sam focuses his eyes on Dean.  “Yes, sir.”

“You want to know something you ask me.  Got it?”

The connection between them thickens as they bore into each other, “Yes, sir.”

“Now puppy has earned a reward.  I think we both need one after the past twenty four hours.”

Dean crosses to behind his desk opening a locked drawer.

Sam’s beautiful mouth breaks into a glorious smile that could brighten even the darkest soul.  “I want to go dancing.”

This startles Dean, because he was thinking more bend over and fuck me till I cum kind of reward.  “Did you say dancing?”

A chuckle shakes the gentle giant, “You said I could pick a treat.  I want to go dancing on the first floor of the Rode House tonight with you.  Please?”

Those sparkling hazel eyes are once again Dean’s undoing as he walks back over to his sweet boy.  “Fine. We will go dancing, and that delicious ass will be pampered like a prince.”  The master produces, from behind his back, a black box with one single white bow.  “But you have to wear this at the club.”

His puppy’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree as he does fast work removing the bow.  He gingerly takes out the collar, bringing it to his nose for a long whiff.  “Yes I will.  Is this your pick?”

Dean winks as he pulls a condom from his pocket, “I think the collar counts for both of us.  My reward will require that ass in the air.”


	14. Chapter 14

Sam peers out the window of the Aston Martin.  Dean is on a work call so that forces him to sit silently in the passenger seat.  They are caught in rush hour traffic, which is horrible.  The day has been so full of amazing surprises, so the gentle giant is beside himself with joy.  A kind grin sets on his face, his eyes searching the sidewalk for something interesting to view.  Being the object of all this affection still bothers Sam, but he can’t deny that it’s not breathtaking. 

After work they went to Dean’s penthouse for cuddles, dinner, and a change of clothes.  At some point Dean had his assistant buy several outfits for Sam.  The tags all said Neiman Marcus, but the prices were blacked out.  Sam is pretty sure Dean didn’t want him to worry about it but he knows that everything on him right now is the best money can buy.  He grazes his fingers over the new jeans and v-neck.  The most astonishing part of the evening thus far was Dean cooking dinner for them.  How the hell will Sam ever be able to give back an ounce of what his master dotes on him?  His hands flutter up to the collar around his neck.  Butterflies have been dancing in his stomach ever since Dean lovingly placed it there.  One unuttered word crosses his mind as his fingers reach out finding Dean’s. “Forever.”  He takes his lover’s hand their fingers finding a peaceful home.

Finally, they reach the Rode House, and the valet line is longer than usual.  Dean finishes his call turning to Sam, “Jesus I did not realize how crazy it was going to be tonight.”

Sam just swats at his love with a playful tone, “You just want an excuse not to hang out on the first floor with all the crowds.”

Dean cocks his head to the side in agreement, “True, I really dislike all the insanity, but Sammy wants to dance then sure as hell that’s what we are doing.”

There is no doubt in Sam’s mind that even if he tried, Dean would not change the plans.  It seems the second a wish leaves his mouth, his master is already making it happen.  Two valet guys approach the car, one for each side.  His attendant is young and bursting with energy, “Good Evening Mr. Wesson.  I hope you enjoy your festivities.”  Sam can’t help but notice the attendant’s jaw drop, spotting his new jewelry.  He takes great pride in strutting away as Dean reaches behind him, his hand searching for his puppy.  Once their palms are firmly attached, Sam is ushered into the club.

Dean, of course, has thought of everything.  They have a private table waiting which has been sectioned off with red velvet ropes.  Their drinks arrive before they do, along with an array of Sam’s favorite snacks.  The first couple of hours whiz by in a massive whirl wind.  Every time Sam mentions his love for a song, Dean is up steering his love to the dance floor.  The music is loud, and the thumping of the beats moves their bodies to rub and grind against each other.  He adores how Dean has completely given himself into the evening with long loving strokes up Sam’s skin, and kisses that feel like they will never end.  The night is magnificent with every detail directed by the master. 

Abruptly, Dean is called up to Ellen’s office leaving Sam to sit in solitude behind his velvet ropes.  Then a familiar face approaches, “Hey can one of the simple people join you?”

Sam smiles and waves for Anna to join him, rising to give her a hug before returning to his seat.  They have to lean in to hear the other over the music, “What brings you down to the first floor?”

Anna winks with a wicked grin, “Your master didn’t want you drinking alone.  I like the new collar.”

Sam touches the luxurious leather, “You know Dean.”

“I do actually; I think Dean and Ash were in middle school when I first started working here.”

This suddenly gets his attention, “I didn’t realize you have known him for that long.”

“Dean has been around this family for a very long time.  We are happy he found you.”

The warmth in her voice as she says the last sentence almost brings Sam to tears.  He reaches out, patting Anna on the thigh, “Thank you. I needed that.”

She takes his hand into hers, “Can I give you a piece of advice about the Dean Smith?”

He shakes his head, yes curious as where the conversation is heading, “Sure.”

Removing her hand from his, she covers his ear as though revealing a dark secret.  “Dean wants to be the hero of the story.  Let him spoil the shit out of you.  He needs to be the caretaker; like the rest of us need sleep.  This is how one keeps him forever.”

Anna pulls her lips from his ear as their eyes meet in a long meaningful stare.  Sam slowly nods his head as acceptance spreads across his body.  She has given him the keys to the kingdom.  Sam spots Dean out of the corner of his eye so he merely says, “Thank you” before greeting his love with a long lustful kiss.


	15. Chapter 15

Dean opens his eyes as the sky darkens above him.  A storm is brewing but he’s not ready to leave just yet.  He is lying on the ground his back resting on the soft green grass.  Sam left for Austin at dawn, so Dean slept in until nine.  Then he took his typical Saturday jog, ending up where he does every week.  Although, this time it seems different. For the first time since he left Ash here to rest, Dean isn’t thinking about him.  Instead, Dean’s mind is drifting off to whiskey-hazel eyes, and skin that feels like the softest silk.

He rolls over onto his stomach, stretching his fingers out to graze along the cool marble.  He always felt guilty when he was with other people.  From Castiel, to the professionals he paid, but always the following Saturday, he would sit in the grass purging his sins to Ash, crying and begging for forgiveness, hoping his lost love would not abandon him.  Now these visits are less about confession, and more about acceptance.  He can see the changes in his life, how his Sam is altering the world around him, and it is glorious.

 A kind smile graces his face, “He’s beautiful Ash.  It has only been a month, but I can’t imagine my life without him.  I’m thinking of re-writing the contract to include overnights.  I know he has technically slept over a couple of times, but never in our bed.  I will miss waking up to my sweet puppy asleep on the floor next to me, but snuggled next to my skin is even better.  Sam is very respectful of you.  He’s never asked to remove your pictures, or anything else that’s yours.  What do you think?”

 Joy is all that Dean senses as he stands before the tombstone.  He traces the name of his love with his fingers, looking to the heavens.  He can see the clouds are almost black with rage now but not a drop of rain has fallen.  “I love you Ash.”  Dean whispers as he gingerly kisses the stone.

A grin still touching his scruff filled face he takes off for home trying to beat the coming storm.

***

Dean’s spirits are still flying high as he pulls the Aston Martin into the valet line at the Rode House.  He hasn’t heard from Sam all day, but as long as puppy texts before midnight, Dean has promised himself not to panic.  Sam seemed off this morning as he packed for Austin, but Dean chose once again to just let the cards fall as they may.  The master has no doubts that his sweet boy will ask for help when he truly needs it.

Dean just tosses his keys to the attendant and saunters past the red velvet rope, astray in his own thoughts of graveyards and puppies.  When he reaches the second floor bar, he nods as an ice-cold beer is placed before him.  He scans the room intrigued by the Saturday night crowd.  These are the weekend warriors who enjoy Dean’s lifestyle on their off time.  They tend to be a little more over the top, with leather chaps and collars with spikes.  He watches a woman dressed as Annie Oakley lead a large grizzly looking man across the room by a leash.  Dean enjoys it when Sam wears his collar out of their sessions, but he would never put him on a leash to display him for others entertainment.  This is where Dean’s taste differs from other Dom’s. He likes his puppy obedient in the bedroom, but feisty and free in the real world.

Crowley steps onto the black stage, standing perfectly still a single spotlight surrounds him.  This is where Dean respects the true talent of Mr. Crowley, as he will stand there for as long as it takes until silence prevails.  Only then does he begin tonight’s entertainment.  With a showman’s smile, Crowley commands the room, “Good Evening my fellow Bondage lovers. Tonight we will begin with an aerial show.”  The Emily Browning re-make of Sweet Dreams begins to play as two little demons step on to the stage.  They are both completely nude holding hands as they walk out.  One, Dean immediately recognizes as Cecily.  She normally wears glasses but this means that the act will include blindfolds.  The other woman is a mystery to Dean.  She is petite with dark hair and the deepest coffee colored eyes.  The unknown woman glances at him with a flirty wink.  The stage is full of ceiling to floor strands of dark fabric for the ladies to climb.  Cecily, along with the stranger, are given blindfolds as they raise themselves up on the black silk materials.  The show begins as they twist and turn their bodies to the beat of the music flowing together like a ballet.

Dean taps on the bar, “What’s the new girl’s name?”

The bartender doesn’t even stop his rhythm of drink making to look, “Ruby. She is a brand new recruit from Austin.”

 The connection to Sam does not sit well with Dean.  The BDSM community in general is very small.  There is a very strong probability that they know each other.  He takes a moment to memorize her features, which is not difficult as her lady parts are spread out for all to see.

Dean prefers cock, but he can appreciate the beautiful, sensual lines of the female body.  The two women are swinging in unison.  They will part tossing themselves away from each other before coming back together as the melody swells.  Each time they reunite they take a moment to kiss, but each time their lips move seductively over the other’s open skin.  Dean finds himself mesmerized by the grace like movements all choreographed to match the music.

Suddenly he hears the song “Home” by Phillip Phillips.  He is jumping from his seat trying to find a quiet corner to hear his Sam.

“Sammy, are you okay?”

Dean can’t hear what his sweet boy is saying, so he steps out on the fire escape to find peace.  “Sam, say that again, I can’t hear you?”

Sam’s voice is low, full of fear, trembling on each word, “Dean, I need you.”

The master was moving down the fire escape on the word need, “Where are you?”

“I’m at St. Mark’s in Giddings TX.”

Dean suddenly can’t find his breath as he realizes his Sam is in a hospital. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.  It’s my sister.  I don’t want to be a bother, but she needs help.”

Dean is flooded with relief that his gentle giant is safe.  “Where the hell is Giddings, TX?”

A peaceful laugh fills Dean’s ear then Sam retorts, “It’s an hour east of Austin on 290.”

“Well I’m flying, so that will be significantly shorter.  Does the hospital have a large open parking lot?”

“Yes.”

“Good have them make a wide enough spot for a helicopter to land I will be there in 2 hours tops.”

Dean observes his car parked nearby so he usurps the attendant grabbing the keys and jumps in bleeding rubber on the road as he peels out.  “I’m gonna have to call and get everything set up are you okay with me hanging up now?”

“Sure. Umm, can you do one thing for me?”

“Beyond hiring a chopper to fly me to a Podunk town in Texas, sure what’s one more thing.”

Sam clears his throat clearly nervous to ask his request.  “No expensive stuff.”

“I’m sorry you will have to be more specific.”

“No Hugo Boss or Armani just you here fast, ok?”

“I can do that.”


	16. Chapter 16

The chopper lands exactly two hours from when Dean hung up on Sam.  He reminds himself every few minutes that Sam is fine, his sister is in trouble.  Yet, there is something brewing in Dean’s stomach that fears there is more to this than Sam was telling.  Glancing out the window he spots his tall drink of water.  He’s standing in a tattered old pair of jeans, white v-neck, and a plaid flannel. Dean normally thinks flannel is an atrocious fabric, but damn if Sam doesn’t do it justice. 

Once he gets the all clear from the pilot, Dean leaps from the helicopter, rushing to meet his Sammy.  He can immediately tell that Sam agrees with his clothing choices too.  He went old school with ripped jeans, gray Henley, and work boots.  But the icing on the cake is his Dad’s old leather jacket.  Dean reaches out to take his sweet boy into his arms when Sam steps back.  “Dean this isn’t Dallas.  We need to be careful okay?”

It takes Dean a beat to process this new rule.  No public display of affection is just not okay with Dean. He doesn’t care where the fuck they are yet, but he respects Sam’s wishes.  “Fine, but I do expect some playtime while I am here.”

A slight grin blesses that troubled face, “Of course.  Let’s head inside.”

They keep a small distance between them, which is eating at Dean but he follows Sam’s lead.  “So why am I here?

Once inside Sam turns to Dean his eyes are filling with tears, “My sister has seriously fucked up this time.  She’s had a problem for a while but I have always been able to fix everything when I came down.”

Dean simply nods, “Drugs?”

The tears are now streaming down his cheeks, “Heroine.  This is the only hospital that will take people like us.”

“Like us?”

Sam clears his throat trying to find the words, “We don’t have insurance.  We don’t have a lot of things.”

All Dean wants to do is hold Sam, and whisper how those things don’t matter, but here all he can do is nod once more.  “What’s the plan?”

Just then a Doctor, in a long white lab coat steps up to them, “Mr. Wesson, is this the gentleman who might be able to accommodate your wishes?”

The master doesn’t even miss a beat, “I always accommodate all his wishes.”

The pride that beams from his adorable Sam is worth the trip alone.  The Doctor recovers quickly, “Well then, Mr. Wesson would like his sister moved to a facility in Dallas.  I have concerns about this request.”

Dean can smell the dollar signs rolling of this guy, and he just wants to punch him in his smug face, but he holds it in with a nefarious grin, “Please share with me these concerns and how I can make then disappear.”

“There are of course the costs involved in moving a patient in her condition, and finding a facility that will accept uninsured individuals.”

The master can almost taste the man’s nasty sweat as he steps extremely close, “Okay so here is what’s going to happen.  You are going to call Green Oaks hospital in Dallas and give my name.  They will have a bed waiting for her rest assured.  I will have my helicopter pick up a nurse in Dallas and have her meet us here.  When will…”  Dean suddenly realizes he doesn’t know her name.

Sam catches on adding, “Gwen Campbell be ready for transfer?”

An hour later, all the arrangements have been settled.  The chopper will arrive at 9:00am, with the Green Oaks nurse ready to take them all back to Dallas.  Sam and Dean are strolling out to the parking lot when he notices that there are only a handful of vehicles.  “Sam, where is the Audi?”

The large man crumples in his shoulders like a whimpering child, “Gwen had some debts with her dealer.  She was lying in her own mess on the floor, but they wouldn’t let me take her unless I paid them.  It was the car or her, I am so sorry Dean.”

The new falling tears are Dean’s undoing, as he takes his lover into his arms kissing him deeply.  Sam doesn’t step back this time. He just returns the affections, desperate for anything Dean will give him.  Finally the kiss ends, but they continue to hold each other in a tight embrace.  Dean senses that he is the only thing holding Sam together.  “You did good Sam.  I am proud of you.”

Sam can’t even find the words to reply.  He just lowers his head into Dean’s neck kissing softly.

Dean brings Sam’s face to meet his placing their foreheads together.  After a few minutes, he finally inquires, “Umm, so do I need to call a cab?”

Sam pulls a set of keys from his pocket.  “It’s my Dad’s old car.  My grandfather owns it now but he lets me borrow it sometimes.”

Dean follows Sam’s eyes to a beautifully restored 1967 black Chevy Impala.  His mouth is almost watering at the vehicle before him.  “What are your thoughts about boyfriends driving it?”

A loud chuckle erupts from his giant. “Boyfriend?”

He is rather startled that he used that word as well.  “Then you tell me what I am?”

This seems to unravel Sam as he snatches Dean’s face in his hands holding with all his might.  “Everything.  You, Dean Smith, are my end and my beginning.”

They fall back into a soft kiss that builds, with each second, into a rough ravaging full of teeth and tongues.  In the end, Dean is pulling away, trying to come up for air.  He is barely able to sputter, “Well that’s awesome, but a really long title. I think boyfriend works?”

Sam laces his fingers into Dean’s, tugging him over to the driver’s side of the Impala.  “Yes, my boyfriend can drive the car.”

He holds the keys out as Dean seizes them, unlocking the door, and hopping behind the wheel with a happy giggle.  Dean turns over the engine, listening as this gorgeous gal purrs beneath him.  Dean finds a classic rock station blaring Led Zeppelin, while rolling the windows down.  He glances over at Sam, and the smile he shines makes Dean’s heart sing. 

“Well Sammy, give me an open road because we are taking a joy ride.”

Dean squeals the tires as they burst out of the lot, peeling down the road, building speed as they go.  Once Sam directs him to an old highway that’s completely deserted, Dean floors it, howling with laughter.  After a while, the master has the ebb and flow of the car down, so he slides his hand across the bench reaching out for Sam.  His sweet boy takes his open hand, bringing it to his lips for a tender kiss. 

“Dean, keep your eyes on the road.”

“Can’t help it Sammy. You are my only sunshine.”  He squeezes Sam’s hand as he is reminded what joy feels like.  They both needed this time to just be lost on the asphalt river, with tunes and each other.

Over and hour later Dean pulls the Impala into a spot in front of an old beaten looking motel.  “You know Sam I’m sure we can do better.”

“No one knows me here.  Dean, my life in Giddings is complicated.  In Dallas I am free.  This town, dealing with my family drama is just a constant reminder of why I left.”

The master cuts off the engine, leaning back into his seat.  “Sam, I need some background information.  I feel like you are only giving bits and pieces.  Please, I need the whole story.  Then we will get a room, and we can do whatever you want.”

A sly grin spreads across his puppy’s face.  “Whatever I want?”

“Honesty first, Sam.”

Sam bites his lip, struggling with what to do.  Without warning, he lies down on the seat placing his head in the lap of his master.  He has to curl his knees up to fit, but he seems relaxed, so Dean in turn begins to stroke the lovely dark locks. 

“When I say I’m coming to Austin, I mean here.  I grew up in Giddings, Texas.  Gwen is my half sister.  We have different Dad’s, which is why our last names don’t match.  She was the result of a one night stand when our Mom was like, 18.  Then later, she met my Dad, married him, and had me.  She died in a fire when I was 6 months old, and Gwen was 5.  My Dad tried for a few years, but he just couldn’t do it.  He dropped us off with my Grandfather when I was 2.  He said it was for the weekend so he could go hunting.  He never returned.  My grandfather, Samuel Campbell is not a kid raising kind of guy but he kept us alive.”

There is a long pause while Sam is astray in thoughts of his lack luster childhood.  He swallows hard, making a decision before returning to the story, “We are not nice people.  The family business is in trafficking anything for a buck.  We have relatives spread out all over Texas, which allows us to move illegal items smoothly, and without detection.  This has given Gwen and me access to individuals who are always willing to share product for a deal.”  The tears have returned making it difficult for Sam to speak, but he soldiers on, “When I was twenty, I decided I didn’t want to live this life.  I found a way to pay for college at UT Austin, and I left.  My sister never finished high school, she never had a chance.  I come back every weekend to clean her up as best I can.  I pay her bills.  I make sure she has food for the week and that she is still breathing.  I don’t have the strength to live down here full time.  She needs me but every Sunday I run off to my ….”

The guilt of his choices and leaving Gwen behind cause overwhelming sobs to end the story.  Dean simply strokes the moisture off his tender face whispering, “It’s okay Sam, we can’t save everyone.”

After the tears subside, Dean presses on, “What happened that changed everything?  Why do you need her in Dallas after all this time?”

The answer is barely audible, but he can just make it out, “She’s pregnant.”

Dean heaves Sam into his lap, enveloping his sweet boy in his arms.  He peppers his face with gentle kisses while repeating, “Good boy, my sweet lovely boy, my Sammy.”

The two men huddle next to each other in the dark for quite a while.  Neither wants to move, breaking the physical connection.  Finally Dean murmurs, “It’s late. We should get a room.”

Sam tilts his head to meet Dean’s, their foreheads touching, “Can I have vanilla?”

His master answers with a deep tender kiss, “Yes.”

Less than ten minutes later, Dean is locking the motel room door behind him.  His sweet boy is already stripping before him climbing onto the king size bed.  The room is old, weathered with stains, but it almost seems like home because he has his Sam.

Dean tosses his overnight bag on the tattered chair in the corner.  He removes everything but his jeans.  His voice goes low with a grumble, “On your stomach.”

His lovely puppy doesn’t even blink as he obeys.  He pulls the oil from his bag, chucking it next to Sam’s long torso.  Dean straddles his sweet boy, resting on his tight precious ass.  Pouring some oil in his hands, he starts to massage the long lean man.  “Sammy you need to relax.”

The only response is a low guttural moan.  The master works his hands over every muscle, kneading and untying all the tension knots in those stunning, well-built shoulders.  Then he leans in to Sam’s ear, “roll over.”

A thrill of excitement dances through Dean’s soul as his puppy jumps to follow his command.  Dean settles down on Sam’s tummy, bending towards him to kiss those soft, pouty pink lips.  Sam is needy, but in a different way tonight.  He needs affection. He needs to be reminded that he is loved.  The master fills his mouth with the caress of tongues and quiet whines, his fingers slithering through dark luscious hair.  He reaches out for his bag, desperate for a Trojan when he doesn’t find one.  He is up off the bed, digging through the overnight bag, through his jacket, through his pockets.  He is on his hands and knees searching under the bed in hopes it just slipped out, but nothing.

Sam glances over at him his face a stupid goofy grin when he spots Dean’s frantic search. “What are you doing?  I want you inside of me.”

Frustration is flowing from Dean as he realizes he forgot the condoms.  “Umm, so little hiccup here.  Do you have a condom?”

His puppy sits straight up the grin completely gone, “No.  I usually don’t plan on sex while I’m here.”

A silent sigh of relief runs through Dean before he huffs, “Well then we are fucked.”  They both burst out in laughter as they realize the irony of the statement.

An idea flutters through Dean’s mind as he kneels next to the bed, facing his lover.  He bats his eyelashes, “You know, we haven’t updated our contracts in a while.  I was planning on changing a few of my hard limits.”  He pauses as he flashes Sam his mega watt smile.  “Was there anything that you were thinking of changing?  You know we are in a committed relationship and we have both been tested.”

Sam looks heartbroken as he takes Dean’s chin into his fingers, stroking him lightly, “No.”

“I can respect that, but is it fair for me to ask why?”

His sweet puppy takes several deeps breaths then looks into Dean’s eyes searching for an answer only he can supply. “I’m unclean.”

Dean recalls that all of Sam’s tests have been clear of any diseases or infections.  In fact he just updated his tests with Ellen like a week ago.  “Sam I have seen your results.  You are perfectly healthy.”

The large man shakes his head wilting away from Dean, “It’s not about diseases or tests.  I’m just….”  For the first time ever, Sam turns away from his master leaving him distraught.  “I’ve had a long day Dean. Can we just sleep?  I will even move to the floor.”

The sorrowful giant starts to move to the rancid, cheap motel carpet.  Dean grabs his shoulder climbing in bed with him.  He draws his Sam into his lap rocking him tenderly, “No Sam, you are perfect do you hear me?”

There is only silence.  Dean spreads Sam across the bed pinning the large man below his own body.  The two men glare with a powerful eye contact.  “Sam you are perfect.  I want to hear you say it.”

The only response is a slight headshake, which makes Dean’s soul ache.  This beautiful person before him should know it.  His voice is feral, a building anger behind each word, “Say it Sam. Now.”

“Dean please, you don’t know what I have done.”

The master strokes his sweet boys face with his finger, “I don’t care Sam.  I chose you because to me you are perfect.  Say it?”

In a timid tone, Sam relents, “I am perfect, for you.”

A smile falls upon Dean’s face, because he knows what Sam did there;  however, it’s often the little victories that win the war.  “Good boy.”

Sam sighs as he lays his head to the pillow, tugging Dean’s arms around him.  They spend several minutes snuggling and cuddling into one another.  The master rubs his nose into his sweet puppy’s neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of his lover.  “I love you, Sam.”

His lovely gentle boy rolls over facing him.  He gives him a sweet kind kiss, “I love you, Dean.”

They drift off to dreamland, sharing the same pillow, their arms and legs intertwined in a loving embrace.


	17. Chapter 17

Dean falls asleep with his puppy tucked under his arm, the lovely boy’s musky scent filling his nostrils, his skin touching every piece of Dean, and causing him to drift away with all his senses overwhelmed with Sam.  There is nowhere Dean would rather be, but his subconscious has a different opinion.

Once in dreamland, he discovers himself on a beach, late at night.  The air is warm with a slight breeze dancing through his hair.  The darkness is dotted with the twinkling of stars over him, and the sounds of crashing waves.  His heart swells as he realizes that this is Mexico.  A smile spreads on his face as memories of this place fill his soul.  Turning up the coast, he knows there will be a small cottage just a ten-minute’s walk north.  The salty air stings as he recalls, this is where he asked Ash to marry him.  Just then, he sees the two recent college graduates strolling towards him, hand in hand.  The two young men continue their approach until they are within an arm’s reach of Dean.  It is like watching an old movie you have seen a million times, as Dean observes himself getting down on one knee.  Kissing the fingers of his love before speaking with genuine affection, “Will you please be mine forever?”  He retrieves the gold band with a single diamond, from his pocket, placing it upon his love’s left ring finger.  Ash immediately drops down onto his knees with a loving sigh, “I have been yours since you took my hand when we were five.  I will spend eternity with you Dean Smith.”

The engagement is sealed with a long, loving kiss, complete with grins and adoration.

Dean is suddenly blinded by a bright light before his eyes, as he adjusts to the new location.  He scans the house as he is flooded with dread.  He doesn’t want to be here, but it’s like his feet are nailed to the floor.  The smell of antiseptic and strong cleaning chemicals hit him first, next, the underlying aroma of vomit.  He’s in their old house off Mockingbird Lane.  After the company started making real money, Dean bought it for Ash.  It was everything they wanted; four bedrooms, and three baths, located in the best school district in Dallas.  Their aspirations of success and business were so close that Dean felt it was time to look at extending the family.  It was six months after they moved into the house that Ash was diagnosed.

Yet, Dean understands that this is not the beginning of their time in this home, but the end.  He doesn’t want to, but his legs are released, only to walk into the living room.  Actually, now it’s a make-shift hospital room with beeping machines and a hospital bed in the center.  There is no one else in the house, as the nurse was sent away hours ago.  Ash’s last request was to die at home with Dean.

Panic is setting in as his legs force him to stand next to the two men.  Tears drop from his eyes as he views the worst day of his life.  Ash is maybe 100 pounds, his skin is taught and sickly, and his hair barely wisps. Dean is lying on the small bed, his arms and legs surrounding his husband.  Neither man is shedding tears because they have both accepted that this will be done soon.

Ash lifts his face, taking his pale, thin fingers, and raising Dean’s chin to look at him.  “Dean, you have to promise me something.”

Dean’s voice is timid and frightened, “Anything. I will give you anything Ash.”

A worn-out smile drapes along Ash’s sunken cheeks, “You have to love someone else.”

This is not what Dean wants to hear.  He goes to protest, but Ash places his boney finger over Dean’s lips.  “Shh, you were built to love people, Dean.  Once I am gone, don’t squander that amazing gift on the dead.”

“Ash, I can’t.  Please don’t ask…”

Ash covers Dean’s lips with his in a chaste kiss.  Then once their lips finally part, “Then I will send someone for you.  This can be the last gift you give me, Dean.  Love him forever.  Do you promise?”

The dying man takes his hands, interlacing their fingers.  Dean’s head is shaking, along with every muscle in his body.  “Ash…how will I know?”

His gentle husband tilts his head towards Dean’s ear and whispers, “By his hazel-brown eyes.”

He wakes in a cold sweat, his heart beating so rapidly he thinks he might pass out.  The sun has yet to rise, but Dean is terrified by Ash’s premonition.  He sits up, leaning against the headboard, his Sam still snoring.  Dean stretches out his hand, grasping Sam’s hair, letting the lovely locks slip over his skin.  He glances up, catching himself in the wall mounted mirror.  The man staring back at him is astray in his own mind, and white as a ghost.  He can’t stop the silent sobs that erupt from his body.  There is so much turmoil; it is boiling over, leaving his soul with each tear.  These are not tears of sadness, but acceptance.  He can finally give Ash his final gift.  “I love you both.”

Dean lifts his head to the heavens in a hushed tone, “excellent choice Ash, he is perfect.”

Gradually, Dean puts himself back together, stronger now than he was before.  He checks the clock, realizing that Sam won’t be up for at least an hour, so he might as well do something useful.  He remembers a 24-hour gas station a few miles back.  Tossing on his grey Henley and his boots, he grabs the key to the Impala, making sure to leave a note for Sam.

He runs his fingers over the hood of this beautiful piece of art.  “Hello, Baby.”  Climbing inside the car, rushing with exhilaration, he listens to the engine purr, which helps erase the haunting dream.  He takes off, letting the powerful machine rip across the asphalt.

It takes Dean much longer than he planned before he returns to the shit-hole motel.  He is smiling ear to ear as he heads into their room, hoping to wake his Sammy with a little nudge of something hard.  The next second, two large arms are grabbing his shoulders, tossing him up against the wall.  The small plastic bag is thrown across the room as Sam yells, “What the hell, Dean?”

Dean is surprised, but also aroused by the man handling from his puppy, “What is your problem?”

“My problem is that you left your cell phone here.  I have been freaking out.  We are still in Giddings, Dean, you need to take this shit seriously.”

Sam finally releases his master, “Did you not see the note? I went to put gas in the car, and pick up supplies.  Jesus Sammy, what is it with you and this town? You would think the devil lived here.”

His lover walks over, collecting the white bag, “pretty close to it.”

Sam pulls the box of Trojans out, and turns with a grin.  “Well, we really shouldn’t let these go to waste.”

Dean needs this more than the air he is breathing.  His desires for Sam go so much deeper now that life without him is unimaginable.  “Get on the bed naked Sammy, lying on your back.”

His puppy takes a condom from the box, placing it between those lovely lips, and then obeys his mater’s command.  Dean struts over to the bottle of lube on the nightstand.  He tosses it to Sam, “I want to watch you open yourself up for me, but I want you to follow one rule?”

Sam nods with excitement, waiting for the decree.

“Don’t ever close those eyes.  I want to see those hazel beauties the entire time, understand?”

Sam pours the solution over his fingers, chucking the bottle back to Dean.  “Yes sir, eyes open, staring at the sexiest man alive.”

Dean has to smirk because, God, his sweet boy is truly amazing.  The master removes his clothes slowly, as he gazes at the gorgeous man displayed just for him.  Sam rolls his hips up, spreading his long legs over his head.  His own fingers are penetrating his hole, deep and hard, and a moan escapes his lips, but to his credit, his eyes never leave Dean’s.

The master inches up on the bed, removing the condom from those soft, pouty lips.  Then he retreats as his Sammy whines with need.  Puppy can see Dean’s cock, hard and wanting him, but this part must build just a little bit longer.  Dean begins pacing in front of the bed slowly and controlled, observing as Sam tracks him, their eyes still completely locked.  Sam is working in a third finger with a growl, which leaves the master slightly breathless.  Dean mounts the bed, finally touching his sweet boy on his thighs.  He teases his Sammy by ghosting the tips of his fingers ever so slightly all over the silky smooth skin.  Several long, drawn out minutes later, Sam is nuts with want, his dick leaking with pre-cum.

Dean opens the Trojan, tugging it on, knocking Sam’s fingers out of the way.  He bends over, kissing his Sam softly, letting the intensity of the kiss build with each pass of his tongue. Then with their eyes locked in a permanent stare, he thrusts into his puppy.  Both men groan with desire as the sensation of their intimate touch claims them.  Dean uses slow, measured plunges, as his hand find his lovers face.   He holds on tight to that powerful jaw as he plummets deeper, and harder inside that lovely ass.  He can sense the oncoming orgasm, but he fights it, wanting to prolong the connection with those amazing, whiskey-hazel eyes.

Lowering his hand, he strokes Sam’s needy cock in time with his thrusts.  This sends the beautiful man below him into a new stat of bliss, but never do his eyes leave their intended target.  In a dark, guttural voice, Dean roars, “Say it!”

Confusion smacks across his puppy’s face as he questions the master’s request.  Dean just responds with another cry, “Say it, Sammy.”

Sam’s eyes brighten as the answer comes to him.  The two men are teetering at the edge, waiting for his words to send them tumbling over, “I am perfect for you!”

It is only then that Dean and Sam climax in screams, their eyes finally closing.


	18. Chapter 18

Three innocent boxes casually sit in Dean’s living room.  Sam has tucked them behind the couch, but Dean knows they are there.  In fact, he agreed that if Sam was going to spend most of his time with Dean, then he should have a few things in the house permanently.  His gentle giant is taking his time unpacking the harmless cardboard containers.  It seems every day, one or two items will suddenly appear; in the bedroom, in the bathroom, in the kitchen.  This is so odd to Dean; he doesn’t know what to do with the conflicting feelings over the boxes. 

The powerful CEO has never done this before, the only two other men in his life didn’t require this new couple process.  Castiel enjoyed living alone, and Ash was always there.  The teenage boys were 18 when they moved from their parent’s houses to college dorm roommates.  Their stuff kind of grew together.  They only had one kitchen table because when the young duo moved into their first apartment senior year, they bought it together.  Now, Sam wants to discuss things like kitchen tables and beds.  Dean frowns, scrunching up his face as he kicks the box closest to him with the tip of his shoe.  The top falls off revealing the treasures inside.  He doesn’t want to pry, but this is his penthouse he should know what’s inside.

He glimpses at his watch. Sam won’t be home from the hospital for another twenty minutes.  In the two weeks since they brought Gwen to Dallas, Sam spends a lot of time over there.  She is still in critical condition, especially concerning the unborn child, so only immediate family members can visit.  Dean could pull some strings, but he respects Sam’s need to have some space between Dean and his sister.  From what Sam says, she’s barely conscious most the time so he isn’t really missing anything.

It was immediately after the trip to Giddings that he and Sam fell into a pattern.  Sam sleeps over almost every night.  Dean drives him to and from work, dropping him at the hospital before coming home.  Then his sweet boy will take the bus to the penthouse from Green Oaks.  Dean had insisted on buying him a new car, but after Sam noticed the bills for Green Oaks that Dean was paying he refused.  Well it was the beginning of October, so in a few months Sam would find one with a big red bow on top, from Santa, of course. 

Dean was bent over, taking inventory of what was in the box, when the front door swings open.  “Dean, you home?”

Like a teenager caught reading porn, Dean dives for the couch, almost missing, as his Sammy saunters into the room, “What are you doing?”

“Just hanging out on the couch.  It’s Friday night and I can’t think of anything to do.  How was your sister?”

Sam just shrugs his shoulders. If he observed the open box he is too tired to care.  “She’s better today.  They are switching her from the methadone drip to an oral med so that’s promising.  The baby’s heartbeat is still really strong so hopefully there may only be minimal damage.”

This catches Dean’s attention, “minimal damage?”

Sam turns to finally really look at Dean.  He can see the exhaustion and stress in his favorite hazel-brown eyes.  “She overdosed on heroine while pregnant; there is a pretty good chance the kid will have some sort of neuro-developmental problems.”

“Oh yes that makes sense; so are you hungry? I can whip something up for dinner.”

His lovely puppy tosses his jacket over the open box, stepping towards Dean, pulling him from the couch into a heartfelt embrace.  “I need this for just a few minutes, then food, okay?”

Dean tightens the hug, placing his lips over Sam’s.  The kiss is soft and tender, allowing Sam to find his center once again within Dean’s world.  Once they break, Dean is heading to the kitchen, when horror strikes.  “I shot the Sheriff” by Bob Marley plays from the master’s phone.  Sam has never heard that ringtone, so he squints his eyes perplexed by the choice.  Dean is so not ready for this, “I’ll get it later.”

“Dean, who is that?”

The song finally ends, allowing Dean to finally inhale.  Then to his dismay, the same damn song plays again.  Dean closes his eyes praying for it to halt, but he knows she will not stop till he answers.  Sam is actually laughing at this point, “Who the hell keeps calling you?  Are you seeing…”

Dean cuts him off fast, “No.  That is not a man, but a bull headed female who will keep redialing until I answer.”

At this point the phone begins ringing for a third time, Dean picks up the phone, dreading this moment as Sam scrutinizes his every move.  “This is not a good time right now.”

He is forced to pause while the woman on the other end squawks about answering the phone in a timely manner.  “Seriously can I call you back tomorrow?”

Sammy hasn’t moved.  He is completely enthralled with the conversation before him.

“I know it’s been forever.  Demon Hunter has been doing really well, and that takes up a lot of my time.”

Sam rolls his eyes as he is fully aware of what has actually been distracting Dean.

“No, not tonight.  I have plans.  What do you mean you have been talking with Ellen?”

Shock runs though Dean’s veins as she calls Sam by name.  “How do you know that name?”

Closing his eyes Dean takes a deep breath before, “Sam would you like to go to my Mother’s for dinner?”

Sam’s beautiful puppy dog eyes are practically jumping out of his head, “That’s your mother?”

“Yes, she would like us at her house in an hour.  This is not a request.”

The other man timidly nods his head yes.  Once Dean hits end, he is trying to assess how Sam is processing the new information.  “Are you okay with this?”

Puppy shakes his head clear, trying to find his voice again, “Of course! this might actually be fun.”

“It depends on your definition.”

 


	19. Chapter 19

The Aston Martin is parked in front of a normal looking house.  Sam is trying to figure out why Dean is so embarrassed to bring him to dinner, but so far, it seems very typical.  The house is in an average looking neighborhood on the northern end of Dallas.  It’s a single story brick ranch with a large iron Texas star decorating the side.  “Umm, Dean, are we going in or what?”

Dean hasn’t spoken a word the entire ride over, and even now it seems his throat is dry, leaving his voice scratchy, “First, I need to tell you a few things about my mother.  She is the Deputy Sheriff for Dallas County, and has been working in the Sheriff’s office since I was a kid.”

Sam nearly leaps out of his seat. “You are telling me this now!  You literally were raised by the law, and my family is nothing but criminals.  You don’t see a problem here?”

Dean turns to Sam taking his chin into his hands, “You are not your family.  Calm down it will be fine.  I mean think about it.  We are truly star crossed lovers.”

Something clicks for Sam, and he can’t help bursting out in giggles, “I shot the sheriff!”

Dean shakes his pointer finger at Sam with exaggeration, “But I did not shoot the deputy.  The Sheriff is a sexist shit to my Mom, so I love that song.”

There are several more waves of cackles before Sam collects himself, allowing Dean to finish.  “My Mom has always been extremely supportive of me in every aspect of my life.  Your past will always be that to her, just something that was, and not what will be.  She is aware of Ellen’s club and that I participate, but that is all.  So no bondage jokes please.”

He doesn’t even understand the comment, “Do you honestly think I would bring up our sex life with your mother?”

“We have never done this, so just realize she’s going to be weird about it.”

A bizarre thought crosses his mind, “Wait, are you saying that you have never brought a guy home to meet your Mom?”

Dean’s face is irritated as he responds, “Well there was Ash, but we were five and she really didn’t think we were having sex.  She loved Ash.  There will be pictures of him.  Are you okay with that?”

Sam waves his hands in surrender, “We will have to finish this later, cause your Mom is walking up to the car.”

Dean opens his door yelling, “Not cool Mom! I was trying to prep him.”

A tall woman with dark, short hair and a compassionate motherly smile walks over, opening Sam’s door.  “Hi, I’m Jodi, Dean’s Mom.  You must be Sam?”

He climbs out of the car only to be tugged into a tight hug.  Sam never knew his mother, and grew up without a female caretaker in his life.  The firm squeeze moves something inside his soul as he wraps his long, lanky arms around the woman, returning her embrace.

Dean is standing by the car, a smile on his face, “Mom, he just met you. Not everyone is a hugger.”

The two strangers just hold each other for another moment before releasing.  “Oh Dean, sweetie, I think your friend Sam needed that.”

A chill ghosts across Sam’s skin as he realizes that it was exactly what he needed.  He glances down at her with a genuine smile, “Thank you.”

“Alright boys, I have Texas chili on the stove.  Who is hungry?”

****

 Sam spends several minutes after dinner observing Dean with his Mom.  He is different around her.  It’s not a bad different, but almost a calming one.  The famous CEO is always stomping around with heavy armor surrounding him, but here in his Mother’s house, the armor is gone.  His smile is bigger, he laughs longer, and there is a touch of twinkle to his eyes.  Sam has seen this recently when it’s just the two of them.  His heart swells as he realizes that Dean is treating him like family.

Mother and Son are washing the dishes by hand, leaving Sam to explore the house that raised his lover.  Dean was not understating the picture issue.  On every wall, in every room, is at least one, if not multiple photos of Dean with Ash.  He is actually able to view the evolution of their relationship.  He sees pictures from elementary school where they stand just slightly apart, but their hands still touching.  Then sometime in high school, they stand wrapping themselves in each other’s arms.  He spots one of them in a cap and gown kissing.  Ash’s gunmetal gray eyes are peering into the camera, which makes Sam shudder.  Clearly Jodi has no problem that her son is gay.  It forces Sam to wonder what his own mother would have done when faced with the same lifestyle.

He becomes so enthralled by the Ash/Dean love story, he doesn’t notice when he strolls into Jodi’s bedroom.  The 11X13, hand painted wedding photo takes Sam’s breathe away.  Both men are in tuxes, holding hands, as Ash places a gold band on Dean’s left ring finger.  The gentle giant can’t look away from the most stunning Dean he has ever seen.  His face is so overflowing with love, that he is practically glowing.  Sadness falls over Sam as he worries that he will never be able to compete with the ghost in the graveyard.

Just then, an arm takes his as a head rests on his shoulder.  “This is my favorite picture of Dean.”

Sam can’t stop gazing as he answers, “He is so happy.”

Jodi’s voice breaks as a small sob escapes. “It was the kind of love story they write about in novels, even with the classic tragic ending.”

He nods his head in agreement, “I love him but…”

The older woman grasps Sam’s shoulder, turning him hard to face her, “Don’t compare Sam.  You are in this house because Dean is head over heels in love with you.  That gorgeous painting is my son’s past, but you are his future.”

Sam tries to swallow, but his throat is dry as a desert.  “I have a dark past.  What if I’m not good for him?”

Jodi smirks as she goes up on her toes to kiss Sam on the cheek, whispering, “You, Sam Wesson, are the best thing to happen to Dean.  You brought my son back to the living, and for that I will always be grateful.”

Suddenly Dean is yelling from the kitchen, “These dishes aren’t going to dry themselves who is going to help me?”

 


	20. Chapter 20

The soft morning light is beginning to peer into Dean’s bedroom.  He opens his eyes, stretching very slowly, trying not to wake the gentle giant next to him.  The quiet snores from this gorgeous man cause Dean to grin.  It’s just past seven in the morning, as he realizes that it’s Saturday.  This typically means Sam will spend the morning at Green Oaks, and Dean will take his weekly jog.  Yet, Dean wants to do something different.  Their days have become entirely too complicated as they try to piece two lives into one.  Today, Dean wants to leave hospitals and graveyards outside so he can truly appreciate his puppy.  He sets off to prep the room for a satisfying session.

Around 8:30, Dean returns to the penthouse to the smell of bacon cooking in the kitchen.  He immediately follows the marvelous aroma.  He pauses in the doorway of the kitchen in order to drink in the stunning man before him.  He notices, immediately, that Sam is wearing his underwear and dress shirt from yesterday.  “Sammy, did you forget to do laundry this week?”

Sam drops the spatula, resulting in grease splattered on the white shirt.  “Shit! Dean! I thought you left early for your Saturday run.”  Puppy blushes, as Dean realizes what he does when he is gone.  It is so endearing that Dean is even more persuaded to play now.  “What are you doing here?”

Without saying a word, the master saunters over to his sweet boy.  Dean takes the bacon from the skillet, shutting off the burner then turning his attention on Sam.  He pulls his lover into a deep, wanting kiss, leaving them both breathless.  “I think today we should go downstairs.”

His lovely puppy instantly understands, “The bunker?  What about your weekly visit?”

Dean just shakes his head, “Not in the mood to sit with the dead.  I want to lose myself in you.”  He takes Sam’s hands, kissing the palms as he waits for an answer.

Clearly, Sam is taken aback by the gesture, but he needs this just as much as Dean, “Yes, please.”

The master never releases Sam’s hand as he leads him out of their home to the elevators.  “Dean, shouldn’t we eat breakfast before we go down?”

He just shakes his head no as he pushes the down button.  “I’ve got everything covered, my sweet Sammy.  Don’t you trust me?”

There isn’t even a pause, “Yes.”

The doors swoosh open as Dean tugs his prize inside, enveloping the large man in his arms, propping his head against those powerful shoulders.

****

The master guides his puppy into the play room, his heartbeat is building with excitement, “I want you on the bed lying on your back.”

Sam’s starts unbuttoning the white dress shirt.  Dean smacks his fingers, “I never said anything about stripping.  Leave everything on and climb up on the bed.”

His sweet boy seems very confused by the request, but quickly obeys.  Dean struts over to the wall of cabinets, stripping until he is completely naked.  The master knows his puppy is watching him like a delectable steak.  He takes out 4 sets of handcuffs.  These are made with leather bindings instead of metal, which may cause slight rubbing marks but no cuts.  Dean proceeds to attach Sam’s wrists and ankles to each corresponding post on the bed.  The crème silk sheets cause Sam to slip and slide around as Dean secures him to the bed.  His sweet boy can’t help but giggle at the sensation.

Once he has Sam properly strung up, Dean button’s the shirt from top to bottom before retrieving the tray of food he prepared earlier in the morning.  He places the tray next to his puppy’s sultry, long torso as Dean mounts him, resting his bare ass on Sam’s covered stomach.  One last addition before they begin, the master places a black silk material over those gorgeous hazel-brown eyes.  Dean sighs gently as he blinds his sweet boy.

“Open your mouth.”  Sam obeys as Dean places a strawberry between those pink, pouty lips.  His puppy takes a bite, chewing with a faint moan. 

“Open your mouth.”  Sam slips open that beautiful mouth as Dean places another strawberry allowing him to take a bite. 

This goes on over, and over as Dean moves to several different juicy fruits until Sam’s face and neck are a sticky mess.  Leaving the dripping wet juice on his dear Sammy, Dean turns to face that wanting cock.  Sam is at half-mast, but Dean can fix that easily.  Dean lowers the boxer briefs so that gorgeous dick flops out for all to see.  He places his lips on the tip, suckling softly.  The gentle giant groans as Dean’s tongue sweeps across the shaft before he consumes the cock whole.  He gently gulps as his neck muscles tighten on Sam’s now rock hard dick.  Gradually, Dean bobs his mouth up and down, swallowing as Sam’s dick hits the back of his throat.  The gentle moans turn to thrashing and cries, as the master quickens the pace.  Dean takes his free hand, grasping one of the large man’s balls, tugging in rhythm with his swallows.  This sends his sweet boy into a new state of pleasure as he feels in his mouth, the tremors building within Sam’s dick.

Sam screams, “Dean I’m going to cum.  Jesus Fucking Christ!”

At the last word, Dean’s throat is saturated with Sam’s thick, salty, warm jizz.  He takes as much as he can into his own mouth, holding it just over his tongue.  He swivels to face Sam, tilting his head the master kisses his lovely puppy sharing his own salty treat.

The two lover’s kiss, rolling the creamy sensation over their caressing tongues.  While they kiss, Dean ghosts his fingers over Sam’s restrained covered arms.  Then Dean breaks the deep lusty kiss as he crawls off the bed.

He collects all the necessary supplies, putting them on the nightstand while he waits for Sam to stew.  Once his sweet boy is fidgeting and curious, Dean leans over him, using only his tongue he begins to lap up the juice left from the fruit.  Occasionally Sammy will try to catch Dean’s mouth with his but each time the master swats harshly on the thigh. 

Then Dean takes the leather collar, placing it around his lover’s neck.  Sam grins recognizing the supple skin.  Dean attaches a matching leash as he removes the blindfold, releasing the beauty of those hazel brown eyes.  Next, the master releases the cuffs from his kind puppy.

In a dark, sultry voice, he commands, “Sit up. Move to the corner of the bed.”

Sam follows the order as he clambers as far as the strap will allow.  Dean lies down, putting the half-eaten tray between his thighs.  “Feed me using only your mouth.”

A wicked smile gleams on his sweet boy’s face, “Yes sir.”

The gentle giant then creeps over on all fours, taking a mango slice between his teeth.  Then gradually he slinks up the master’s body, stopping to place the fruit between Dean’s lips.  A smile spreads on his face as he takes a bite, chewing slowly.  “Again.”

Sam inches down Dean’s body, stopping sporadically to kiss and lick his master’s skin. The sweet puppy slowly feeds his master, leaving a trail of sticky, sweet liquid from lips to crotch.  As soon as Dean senses there is an adequate mess, he growls, “Clean it up, Sam.”

The puppy starts at Dean’s mouth, licking his lips with slow even strokes.  Working his way down Dean’s neck, the master can hear a quiet purr as his sweet boy enjoys his directive.  Inch by inch, using only his tongue, Sam cleans his master, leaving not a drop behind until he reaches Dean’s swollen hard cock. He then strokes it harshly, swirling the shaft with his tongue. 

Dean picks up the bottle of lube and a condom, putting them on his own abs.  “Ride me.”

His lovely show puppy jumps to action, removing the boxer briefs before grabbing the lube, rubbing it up his own ass, trying feverishly to open himself up.  Emerald green eyes track Sam’s every move, Dean’s cock stiffening as he gawks at the delicious ass before him.  Sam is surprisingly aware of how his movements are arousing Dean.  He alters his speed, leisurely taking his time to tantalize his master.  A hiss of frenzy escapes Dean’s lips as his dick begins to leak with desire.  Sam leaves tender kisses as he tugs the Trojan on to Dean’s cock. Dean tightens the leash, so as Sam goes to straddle him, he has to bend in an awkward fashion to reach his master’s crotch.   

 Dean can’t help but groan as he gazes at his beautiful Sammy sliding his marvelous ass over him.  The master shortens the lead further, causing his puppy to whimper as he attempts to plunge himself onto his Dean over, and over.  The gentle giant reaches out, grasping Dean’s free hand, giving them another connection as he continues his pounding.  He ogles the gorgeous man riding him, trying to take in all his stunning beauty.  The silky hair as it moves across his face, the supple skin rubbing against him that is hot and heavenly while dripping with sweat. 

Dean pleads, “Open your eyes, Sammy.” 

The two men lock into a deep stare as the master reaches forward stroking his puppy’s cheek.  Sam takes Dean’s thumb into his wet mouth sucking it gently. 

The man who believed his soul died over six years ago now finds it returning through those hazel-brown eyes.  He smiles and in a hushed tone, “Beautiful.”

A delicate whine escapes his lover’s throat as Dean grabs Sam’s hips roughly to encourage a quicker speed.  Suddenly, Dean is thrown over the edge as he explodes with a lengthy rugged climax.

Sam uses his own hand to jack himself off, cumming for a second time, releasing the creamy mess all over Dean’s stomach.  Then his sweet boy falls on top of him, panting with breathless gulps of air.

The two men just lie on the bed, allowing their bodies to calm.  Dean pets Sam’s hair whispering, “I love you, my sweet Sammy.”

Once he finds his voice again, Sam lifts his head to stare at Dean, “I love you, Dean, but I’m pretty sure we ruined this shirt.”

Dean explodes in laughter as he squeezes Sam even harder in his arms. 

Several minutes later, Sam tucks his head into Dean’s shoulder, nuzzling him with those precious dark locks.  “What do you think about kids?”

This startles the master, “Umm, what?”

Sam’s voice is timid, with just a dash of fear, “The other day, Gwen mentioned she doesn’t want her baby.  She can barely care for herself, and she will never take the child home to Giddings.”

The question Sammy is asking is unspoken, but strikingly clear.  This is huge, but to Dean, it’s something he has wanted for a very long time.  The master cups his sweet puppy’s face, tilting that gorgeous jaw so their eyes can meet.  “Yes.”

A few joyous tears spill from his Sam because they both understand that with one word they just became fathers.

 


	21. Chapter 21

Dean is dropping back in to his chair, looking around the Demon Hunter office with a wide grin plastered to his face. His life is simply exploding with joy; he doesn’t even know what to do with it all.  He and Sam are solid; the security he finds in his puppy pushes away so much of the sorrowful gray.  Then, of course, there is the possibility of an additional member.  Dean pulls open the middle drawer to his desk.  On the top rests the framed ultrasound.  With a secret thrill he retrieves the photo dragging his finger down the front. 

Gwen has signed all the preliminary paperwork, now it’s just a waiting game. She has several options in the contract to change her mind, but she swears that she will not.  Dean is terrified to get excited, but so far, everything is falling into place beautifully.  The expectant father places a timid kiss to the glass, “Hi there.”

The ultrasound is from Gwen’s 12-week check-up. The obstetrician had assured everyone and said Mom and baby were healthy; however, the doctor also went into detail about possible long term effects of the drug use on the child, but Dean could care less. He wants this for Sam; to be able to give his sweet boy the family experience he never had, but also deep down in his subconscious, Dean wants this for himself.  He wishes nightly for a small little human that he can dote on till his last breath.

A knock at the door startles Dean as he swiftly puts the frame back in its drawer. “Come.”

Kevin enters with his lunch and mail for the day. “Don’t forget today is the first Thursday of the month, so Sam is having lunch with Gwen.”

Dean nods, glad that Kevin had the forethought to remind him of the change. “Right, November 2nd.”

Kevin drops the meal on his desk before hastily heading out to his own desk. Most days Dean takes Sam out to lunch, or home for a quickie.  But, the first Thursday of this month, Sam gets to visit the halfway house where Gwen lives for the first time.  She hasn’t earned many privileges thus far, so for her this is like winning the lottery.  Sam has made it very clear that the siblings need this time alone, and Dean respects that.

Although, if anything happens, the security detail he has hired for Gwen will alert him immediately. Sam didn’t see the need, but even he understood that when she moved from the hospital to the halfway house, it allows her access to individuals that can shatter her recovery.  Dean assured Sam it was for her best interest, but they both knew it had more to do with what she is carrying. 

His landline buzzes, breaking Dean’s thoughts as he goes to answer, “Yes. Dean Smith.”

“Mr. Smith this is Garth Fitzgerald. When is Mr. Wesson supposed to arrive for his visit with Miss Campbell?”

 Dean freezes glancing at his Rolex.  It’s a quarter after twelve he should have been there fifteen minutes ago.  “Hold.”

The CEO switches lines to ring Kevin. “Yes sir.”

His voice is controlled but the panic is there silently taking over, “Kevin run down to IT and stand there until someone can give you an exact time Sam left for lunch.”

As a well trained assistant he doesn’t even question the task, “On it be back in a few.”

Dean is literally watching the time tick when his door opens. The CEO is expecting his assistant, but instead a woman walks in to the office.  She’s wearing old tattered jeans, a white tank, and a weathered black leather jacket.  Her dark hair is pulled back in a braid, and Dean immediately recognizes her dark coffee colored eyes; however, he is not about to let on that he knows her just yet.  “Can I help you?”

She closes the door behind her locking it. Dean observes the action, but simply waits for her response.  She tugs a chair to the center of the room sitting down crossing her legs with a very relaxed demeanor.  “Well, I think I can help you?”

A memory of Dean in that chair, his puppy draped over him crosses his mind as he tries to fain interest in the intruder, “How is that now?”

A wicked cackle breaks the deadly silence, “I think you’re missing something. Maybe I know how you can get it back?”

The master gazes over at the blinking hold button. Vile is rising in his throat, but he knows that at this moment he has to put on his best dom face.  “What is it that I am missing? …I am sorry what’s your name?”

That horrid laugh returns as she knows he is trying to play her. “I’ve been working at the Rode House for a while now, but since you want to play stupid.  The name is Ruby.  Pretty sure your security for the bastard child has already informed you about a lost puppy.”

Dean holds his tongue but his fists tighten as rage courses through his veins. “Where is Sam?”

Ruby sits up, waiting, as she watches the anger ebb and flow over Dean. She is enjoying this, which makes him ascertain that she truly is a despicable person.  Her voice is giddy, “Blindfolded, gagged, and tied up.  We wanted him to feel at home.”

The nails of Dean’s fingers are cutting into his palm as he desperately tries to keep it together. He speaks softly but commands, “Where is he?”

A bored sigh blows from her evil mouth, “I would imagine somewhere on I-35 headed to Giddings in an unmarked van.” She inspects the red paint on her fake nails.  Dean knows this is a stall tactic but he is helpless.  “I guess you may want to know how to get your Sammy back.”

His vision goes white with wrath at the use of his nickname. “I would appreciate that, yes.”

The deplorable woman begins picking at her fingers, which turns Dean’s stomach, “My employer has missed Sammy’s company, and it will take quite a lot for her to give him up. He really is a good boy.”

Dean is seething, his face is stone cold, and he has no more patience for this bitch, “What will it take?”

Ruby winks at Dean because she is all too aware that the master would give his own soul for his lovely Sammy. She leans over, placing a scrap of paper on his desk.  “These are coordinates to an old barn outside of Giddings, totally deserted, lots of room for a helicopter to land.”

Sam’s captors know a lot about him, which makes Dean nervous, “I assume you will have him at this location then?”

She shrugs sinking back into the chair, “He will be there at 9:00pm tonight. Don’t show up any sooner or you won’t recognize the remains.  Do you understand?”

He simply nods yes waiting for the price behind all of this.

“We have noticed that you like to toss around the dough. Expensive cars, diamonds these things have not gone unnoticed.  It is my understanding that Sam’s savior is now taking on another Campbell sibling too.”

Dean’s patience is gone as he snaps, “Give me the number.”

“Five hundred thousand, you land in that fancy chopper of yours, and have it leave fast. Bring the money in a black, leather brief case, small bills no die packs or trackers.  It will be checked before your favorite toy is returned.  Questions?”

There is pure loathing rage bleeding into his words, “None. He will not be harmed.”

A heinous smile fills her disgusting face, “I can promise you two things big boy. You bring the money, and come alone, and your precious Sam will be alive and returned to you.  Sorry but my boss likes to remind people who they truly belong to, so unharmed may not be entirely accurate.”

He is working very diligently to control the terror that is flooding every part of him. “Does this boss have a name?”

“Lillith.”

Dean glares at her as she strolls over to the door tossing a look over her shoulder she giggles, “See ya soon, Dean.”

He waits for the door to close behind her. Then Dean is swept up in the spinning of his universe.  He grabs the trash can under his desk vomiting until there is nothing left in his stomach.  He opens the bottled water Kevin left with is lunch swishing it in his mouth before picking up the phone. 

“Garth, are you still there?”

“Yes sir. Mr. Wesson still hasn’t arrived.”

Dean licks his lips as a plan begins to evolve in his mind. “He will not be coming, but I need you to help me with a few things.  Meet me at my bank in twenty minutes.”

“Yes sir.”

Dean shoves his food away as he begins to make a list of necessities. His emotions are boiling over on the inside but he keeps a glassy calm on the outside.  Fucking idiots giving him eight hours, Dean assumes it’s so he can stew and worry.  They have never witnessed the master planning a scene.   

 


	22. Chapter 22

Dean leaves the Aston Martin at his building, choosing to ride in Garth’s black Range Rover. The trip to Lovefield Airport is quiet, but Dean is certain that every aspect of the scene has been perfected.  There are several reasons why Dean likes Garth.  He at first glance is a dorky little guy with a prominent nose.  However, when needed, he is has no problem blurring the lines.  The security guard has been employed by Dean for nearly six years.  Dean trusts him, and knows that he can count on his total blind faith.

They arrive at the airport, and Dean hands Garth the flight plans. “Remember, two passengers headed to Houston for dinner, and an aerial of the city.  Make sure to complain about how they will most likely be smooching in the back the whole time.”

Garth nods his head as he takes the papers into the front office. Dean taps Gadreel’s leg, motioning him to exit the vehicle.  The two men saunter over to the helicopter, hand in hand.  The black cap his trainer is wearing hides his face and hair.  They continue to hug and giggle almost as if they were drunk, making sure to be loud enough for those around them to take notice.

As soon as Garth returns with a quick thumbs up, the three men climb into the helicopter leaving for their true destination.

****

At nine o’clock on the nose, Garth hovers the helicopter next to the large, run down barn. Dean nods before jumping the last couple of feet to the ground below.  He knows that Garth will continue on to Houston.  Once landed, Gadreel and Garth will exit making sure people hear them complaining that Dean is passed out from too much champagne. 

The chopper disappears into the night as Dean approaches the open door of the barn. The smell of rotting wood and moldy hay strikes Dean’s nostrils first.  Clearly the dilapidated building hasn’t been used for farming in ages.  A familiar scream sends chills over his body.  He adjusts the shoulder strap on the bag, taking a deep steadying breath.  The master is back in his Giddings wear with jeans, a dark navy Henley, boots and his Dad’s leather jacket.  He tugs at his waistband, making sure the two Nickel Taurus PT92 guns with pearl grips are secured.  He closes his eyes, finding his center, before stepping forward willingly entering the lion’s den.

There are several floodlights hanging from the hayloft, making it incredibly bright. Immediately, Dean scans the space searching for his love.  He almost loses it when he spots Sam strung up under the loft by tight twine.  He is bare from the waist up but still wearing his work pants.  Dean’s stomach cringes as he notices the dark red splattered across the kaki material.  They have his hands held so high; he is standing on his toes trying to alleviate the pain from the bindings.  Dean observes his chest rise and fall, his first fear dealt with off the bat.  Sam is alive.

There is a tall gentleman standing next to Sam. His face is gaunt with the light, graying of a beard on his chin.  The man’s eyes are icy cold, and Dean identifies him as the real danger in the barn.  He is holding a leather whip with an ugly looking metal spur at the end.  Dean can’t see the whip marks on Sam’s back, but the smell of fresh blood is in the air.  Dean makes a mental note to never, ever, have whips anywhere near his sweet boy.  He wanders towards his lover when he hears a woman’s voice from the other side of the barn.

“No, not yet Dean, you can stand right there until we have finished our transaction.”

Dean swivels to glare at the voice. She is a striking, tall blonde, with tight leather pants, and a matching shirt.  “Fine, here is your money.  Release him now.”

She shakes her head no, clucking with her tongue as she stalks towards him, “The infamous Dean Smith. You are a legend in some circles.  I was surprised to hear that you had taken an interest in our little Sammy.”

The master pops his neck, rolling his jaw trying to keep the rage in check, “You know me, but I don’t know anything about you.”

A dark smirk plays across her face, “My name is Lillith.”

She goes to shake Dean’s hand, but he won’t touch her. He just steps back in disgust. She shrugs it off, “You really should show some manners, Dean, since this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

“I’m sorry but you are not my friend.”

Lilith rubs her hands together, “Doesn’t matter. That sweet little ass you so enjoy riding, used to make me a lot of cash.  Now it seems he has decided to be exclusive to you, which is a problem.  I am thinking a monthly payment might make all this ugliness go away.”

Dean’s eyes slide over to Sam. He can sense the shame washing off of his sweet boy.  This is how he found the money for college.  “I can work with that, but I want him down now!”

Lilith bursts out laughing, “See, this is not a negotiation in one of your little board rooms. You have no power here, Dean Smith.  I am going to tell you what I want in a monthly payment, then my friend Alistair is going to make sure there are a few scars to help remind you to pay on time.”

A dark growl leaves Dean’s throat, “Don’t you lay another hand on him, or you get nothing.”

A quizzical look builds slowly on Lilith’s face, “I’m sorry, you have me confused with someone who thinks you are more than just a scared little boy, who has to throw around the big bills to get laid.”

Dean drops the large duffel to the ground. He is done with this bitch. He’s been tracking her eye movement, and he knows that there are two other people in the barn, ready to subdue him and Sam.  He is sure they have been told to not go for a kill shot, because alive, Dean is much more lucrative.

“You know, I am really done with this whole charade. We both know I am going to pay to keep him safe.  What’s the point of hurting him anymore than he already is?”

Then Dean catches the hurt in her eyes. This has more to do with a burned lover, than money.  Sam chose him over her, and now she has to show his dear boy that she is still in control.  “I have my reasons.  Alistair if you will.”

Sam’s hazel-brown eyes go wild as he tries to prep for the next hit of the whip. Dean bolts to dash over, but then Lilith shakes her pointer finger at him.  “Dean, check your chest before you move another inch.”

Two little red dots are glowing directly over his heart. He freezes as he locks eyes with Sam.  His lovely puppy shakes his head no.  Dean gradually lowers his hands into his pockets where the baby powder is waiting.  Idiots and there need to look cool with laser pointer weapons.  Then Alistair is behind Sam raising his arm for another blow.  The cry that escapes his Sammy will haunt Dean’s nightmares for years to come.

Dean is yelling, “Stop. Stop it now, what do you want?”

Lilith enters Dean’s space, she is a breath away from touching him as she whispers, “I’m going to mark your boy up good. You can have the leftovers, for a small fee of course.”

Alistair is removing a lengthy hunting knife from a strap on his thigh. Steadily, with deadly intent, he moves to stand in front of Sam, lifting the blade to the most beautiful face in the world.  He steps back just a tad to decide where to make the first cut when Dean hears it.  The word is soft, almost inaudible, but it slips from Dean’s favorite pouty pink lips, “Lawrence.”

The switch has been thrown, and Dean goes cold and controlled. He tosses the powder into the air, marking their lines before pulling the two weapons fluidly from his back, dropping to the ground, staying one step ahead of the hired guns.  He hits the two men in the rafters first, dropping both with one shot each.  Then he executes Lilith and Alistair with head shots.  Dean sprints to the four bodies, putting an extra bullet in each to confirm that they are dead.  Then he rushes to the love of his life.  Snatching the knife that the bastard dropped in death, Dean hacks away at the twine, releasing his gentle giant.

“Sammy, talk to me. You okay?”

The man crumbles into Dean’s arms, slick with sweat and blood from the wounds on his back. “I’m alive, Dean.”  His puppy is falling into waves of hysteria and shock.  “You just murdered four people.”

Dean jerks Sam’s face so they are eye to eye. “No, I just killed four monsters.  I did the world a favor.”

Sam nods his head in agreement, as the pain from his back overwhelms him, and he wails louder this time. Seeing Sam in this state sends Dean over the edge as tears fall on his cheeks. “I got something, Sammy.”

Dean pulls off his jacket and shirt, laying them on the ground. He tenderly places his Sam stomach down on the make shift bed.  “Dean, we are going to jail.”

The master bends his lips to his sweet boy’s ear, “I’ve got it covered Sam. We were never here.”

He kisses the dark brown locks before running over to the black bag. He removes several gallons of bleach and one of gasoline.  Then he takes out the medical kit at the bottom.  Racing back to Sam, he stabs him in the shoulder with a morphine injection.  “This will help you sleep, my sweet boy.”

He watches the drug take effect as those stunning hazel-brown eyes drift shut before he goes to work. The sobs return as Dean sits alone, staring at the bleeding gouges on his sweet boys gorgeous shoulders.  He traces the fragile bronze skin with his fingers.  Finally, he delicately cleans the wounds before rubbing antibiotic cream into the damaged area, wrapping the open wounds with gauze. 

He checks the time, acknowledging that he has at least an hour till Garth returns. Dean lies down next to his gentle giant, so that the two men are face to face with their noses touching.  “This will never happen again.  I promise Sam, I will keep you safe.”

Dean covers Sam’s mouth with his in a chaste kiss, letting his lips linger. Petting his kind puppy, he once again finds the strength to finish the job.  He procures a black V-neck from the bag, pulling it over the other man’s head.  It’s a tight squeeze but it will help keep the bandages in place.  Afterward, the master scrambles about the space, pouring bleach over anything with Sam’s blood on it.  He then drags all four bodies to the middle of the barn, dousing them with gasoline.  Using all his might along with help from the adrenaline pumping through his veins, Dean lifts Sam, carrying him to the clearing for the chopper.  After Sam is safely outside, Dean returns to the horrors, lighting a match and flinging it on the corpses.

Dean halts for just a moment to watch the carcasses burn before re-counting the bullet casings, grabbing anything else that can be linked back to them, and running from the burning building.

He returns to Sam, tugging the giant into his lap. Dean strokes Sam’s arms, kissing his lips, anything to remind him that he is out of harm’s way.  Ten minutes later, the chopper arrives to collect them and head back to Dallas.  Gadreel leaps from the helicopter to help Dean lift everything in to the vehicle; once again, it never touches the soggy, print making soil.  Dean holds his lover the entire trip back, whispering over, and, over into his ear, “Good boy, my sweet boy, my Sammy you are going home.”


	23. Chapter 23

Every muscle in Dean’s body hurt. He took on Sam’s wounds, both physical and mental, like they were his own.  The man has barely slept or eaten in the three days since their return from Giddings.  Everyone at Demon Hunter was informed they both had a bad case of the flu and to stay away.  This left all of Sam’s care to his master.  Dean hired a cash-only Doctor to treat the worst of Sam’s injuries, and falsify medical records stating their illness and need for quarantine for at least a week.

Dean rubs at the scruff on his face, desperately trying to focus on the discussion at hand. “So when will he wake up?”

The doctor sighs as he explains it to Dean for a third time. “I have taken him off the IV drip, so his pain meds will wear off in the next few hours.  When he wakes, give him the Vicodin pills as needed.  The lacerations on his shoulders are healing nicely and he can start to lie on his back whenever possible.”

The exhausted master just needs a simple answer, “He’s been unconscious for three days. When can I expect him to join the living?”

“Sometime over the next 24 hours. It’s just after 6pm, so by this time tomorrow or if not call me and I will return to check on him.  It might be a good idea to do a sponge bath before he wakes.  Would you like me to call a nurse?”

This is something that Dean is all too familiar with, “No. I can handle it.”

The medical professional is packing up his bag to head out. “It can be quite difficult to bathe someone that size without help.”

“Nope I got it, thanks Doc.” Dean glances around the room at all the equipment cluttered in his home.  “When will your staff be here to clean up?”

“Tomorrow at 10am. Is that okay?”

 Dean rolls his neck trying to not let old recollections of living rooms filled with hospital supplies haunt him.  “That’s fine.  Thanks again.”

He hands the man several stacks of hundred dollar bills for payment as he walks him out the door. “Anytime, Mr. Smith.”

Once the door shuts Dean takes a cleansing breath as he crosses to the massive windows revealing the Dallas skyline. The weather is typical for this time of year, gray with drizzle.  Lately Dean feels caught in a perpetual state of gray.  The sun is nowhere to be found as Dean wanders into the bedroom to peek at his gentle, sleeping giant.  The master just stands at the foot of the bed, drinking in the beautiful boy before him.  It’s unsettling to see his Sam still for such a long time.  The image makes him look small and fragile.  Dean ambles up the side of the bed never dropping his gaze as his eyes saunter up Sam’s body.  He is memorizing every curve, each dimple, because to him this is a masterpiece to be adored.  The upward motion halts at the bandages on his sweet boy’s shoulder blades.  This area took the brunt of the whipping where the spur tore the skin in deep gashes.  An earth shattering scream pierces Dean’s thoughts causing him to shiver.  “Never again, Sammy.”

Finally, he allows his gaze to work its way up to that stunningly handsome face. Dean kneels down by the bed, tucking his face in next to Sam’s, their noses touching, taking his hand to pet Sam’s luscious hair as Dean reminds himself to breath.  Sam is safe, he is alive, and Dean is in control once more.  He places a tender kiss to his Sammy’s temple, “Ready for a bath Sammy?  I promise to be gentle.”

Dean heads to the kitchen for two washing tubs, giving the medical equipment a wide berth. He is struggling to not think about the last time he washed a lover.  Battling to find his center, he begins taking deep breaths, blowing them out slowly.  He knows he can do this, he just needs to stop comparing.  A mantra fills his mind as it slips quietly from his lips, “Sam is not dying.  Sam is not dying.  He will wake up.  He will wake up.”

Returning to the bedroom with the basins and wash clothes, he moves Sam on his side so he can put several clean towels below the overgrown puppy. Dean can’t help himself as he puts his hand over Sam’s heart.  He closes his eyes, feeling its sturdy, solid beat.  He gradually whispers his mantra in rhythm with the heartbeats trying to find serenity.

He leaves his dear boy on his side so he can start with his chest. Sam is completely naked, but in this moment, Dean’s touch has nothing to do with arousal.  He is tender and compassionate as he leisurely works his way down the man’s torso.  Sam’s skin is silky smooth, calling to his master; in turn, Dean lovingly kisses each spot, often letting his lips linger so he can inhale the intoxicating scent of the person who holds his entire happiness in their limp hands. 

It is when Dean reaches Sam’s crotch that he can’t help but crack a grin. “Okay Sammy, no getting a stiffy on me.  This is very serious business here.”

The faint smile disappears, as there is no one to laugh with him, only silence. After his front is clean, Dean rotates him to his stomach, strolling to the end of the bed to wash his lover’s feet.  This is when the well-built walls come crashing down.  Memories of Ash in his death bed envelope Dean’s mind as he tussles with his lungs trying to pull air into them.  The lost man has nothing to tether him as he drifts into the dark gray sea of sorrow. He collapses to the floor sobbing uncontrollably.  Only the task at hand forces him to focus as Dean works his way up Sam’s legs and backside.  Rinsing the soapy suds away with a mixture of fresh water and his own tears.

It’s when he reaches the white dressing that the master can’t find anything left in his empty reserve to keep going. He knows the exhaustion is wreaking havoc on his ability to remain calm.  Dean plummets to the mattress next to his Sammy fatigue winning. He cries himself to sleep, shoving his nose into the supple neck of his sweet boy, so as he slips into unconsciousness the last thing he smells is Sam.     

****

Dean’s eyes flutter open slowly as he takes in his surroundings. He’s in his bed, the room is black with night.  While he attempts to shake the cobwebs from his pounding head, he is quickly aware that something is missing; warmth.  Dean spreads his arms out on the mattress hitting nothing but bed sheets.  It is several seconds before his brain catches up.  He immediately shoots up screaming, “Sam!  Sam!”

The distraught master dashes from the room, frantically searching for his puppy while shouting. “Sam!”

He stumbles over the couch crashing to the floor cursing, “Son of a Bitch.”

His nerves finally find peace as his sweet boy bends over giggling at him, “You okay down there, Dean.”

Dean sits up in a huff, “You scared the shit out of me!”

Sam gestures to the sandwich in his hand, “I was hungry, it’s after four in the morning. Did you want me to wake you?”

There is no pause, “Hell yes. When you have been unconscious for three days, you wake the man in your bed before making a snack.”

His sweet puppy is genuinely surprised as he takes a seat next to Dean, “I have been out for three days?”

The master doesn’t even answer he just takes that beautiful smiling face into his hands kissing him. The taste of peanut butter and Sammy floods Dean, and the deep painful knot in his abdomen releases.  “Yes.  How are you feeling?”

“Actually my back is hurting pretty bad. I saw the painkillers on the nightstand but knew better than to take one on an empty stomach.”  He accents this with another big bite of his PB&J.

Dean just stares into the hazel-brown eyes that he loves. “What do you remember?”

There is a slight flinch from Sammy, which breaks Dean’s heart. “I was walking to the bus stop to head over to the halfway house when a white van pulled up and two guys jumped me.  Next thing I know, I was cuffed, gagged, and blindfolded with no idea what was happening.  We drove for hours before Alistair removed the blindfold laughing.  He strung me up until you came in…”

Sam drops his snack as his eyes go wild the vision of Dean killing his captors pervades his mind. “Dean, what did you do?”

His master pulls Sam’s face to his their eyes locking, “I did what I had to in order to keep you with me. Please forgive me.”

Tears are falling to his puppy’s cheeks, “Forgive you? Dean, I brought this on us.  You…”  Sam wraps his muscular brawny arms around Dean squeezing the air out of the smaller man.  “Dean, you saved me.”

The master just goes loose, enveloped in his sweet boy. Dean tilts his head so he can hear the sound of Sam’s heartbeat.  

 


	24. Chapter 24

Sam is lying on the couch with Dean. His head rests on his master’s chest, wrapped in his arms. Dean has his palm gently over Sam’s breast, his thumb beating in time with the giant’s heart.  They are watching a cooking competition show on the big screen TV.  It’s the last day of their ‘quarantine’, so tomorrow they both head back to work.  At first, Sam was worried that over three days of just each other, they would be chomping at the bit to get out, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth.  It seems the more time they spend together; the less they want to separate.  There has been no sex, no play sessions to fill the days, just words and timid cuddles.

The gentle giant has noticed that Dean always wants to touch or listen to his chest; the rise and fall of his lungs, the beating of his heart. He has almost become accustomed to waking up with Dean sprawled across him like a blanket.  Deep down he grasps that this is Dean trying to keep him safe subconsciously.  Reminding himself that Dean needs reassurance, every moment, that his Sam is alive.

He reaches up, stroking his fingers through Dean’s hair, listening as he purrs softly, leaning into the touch. A heavenly smirk fills Sam’s face as he chuckles to himself about how much Dean enjoys being caressed.  Dean glares at Sam, “What are you laughing at?”

Sam creeps up the other man on all fours as he lowers his lips to Dean’s forehead, kissing sweetly, “Just the sexiest man alive purring like a kitten.”

Dean immediately growls, biting at the air with his teeth, “I am not a kitten, I am a fucking mountain lion. Roar.”

He can’t help but burst out into a full belly laugh. “Jesus, Dean, I am going to miss this tomorrow.”

Sam hovers just above Dean as a melancholy sigh leaves his loving master, “Don’t remind me. I have like a dozen meetings tomorrow.  Let’s go eat some bad sushi so we don’t have to go back.”

A thought crosses Sam’s mind, making his face scrunch. “Do I have to?”

There is a pause as he watches Dean assess the question. Then his master cups his chin with his hands, “No.  You can do whatever, have whatever you want, Sam.”

Tilting his face into Dean’s caress, Sam whispers his true desire, “I want a home.”

He can feel the man below him start with shock, “Sam, you have a home here, with me.”

Sam smiles fondly, “I know that.” He takes a breath, apprehensive because he will set things in motion, but he has never wanted anything else as much as this.  “We need a house.  When the baby arrives, he or she will need space.  Maybe even a backyard.”

He hasn’t even finished his sentence when Dean is pulling out his cell phone. “Hey Kevin…Yes I will be back tomorrow…Sam will not be returning…just inform Linda…also can you call Hael at Dallas Reality and make an appointment with Sam for tomorrow.  Text Garth and have him send someone with an SUV to drive him.  Yes I have missed you.  I will see you tomorrow.”  The master tugs Sam down into an embrace before pretending to turn his attention to the TV.

He bounces right back up, dying of curiosity, “That’s it. You’re going to just let me choose our house.”

Dean doesn’t look at him as he responds, but a slight grin is peeking over his lips, “Of course not. I will fax over a list of necessities and a price range in the morning.  Then you and Hael can narrow down a few for me to view next week.  If you are going to be the househusband, Sam, you should start now by picking it out.”

Then the last bit of the conversation trails in his mind. “You know, I’m sure the realtor can pick me up. I don’t need a driver.”

He can feel Dean’s muscle tense up, “No. The driver will take you to her office, then drive the both of you around town.  This is a hard limit Sam.”

Sam flops down on Dean with a grunt, “I do not need a security detail and driver. I am a grown ass man.”

The command is in Dean’s no nonsense voice, “Non-negotiable Sam. Until Garth locates Ruby…”

Sam cover’s Dean’s mouth with his, but there is nothing chaste about this kiss. It’s strong and powerful, full of wanting desire.  With each pass of Sam’s tongue, he pushes his hips deeper into his master’s crotch.  Without warning, Dean is shoving Sam off him, “We are not ready yet, sweet boy.”

He cradles Dean’s chin in his brawny hands, tipping his forehead so they connect. “I know.”

The large man snuggles deep into waiting arms with a blissful grin glowing from his face. Then as they settle in to watch the rest of the show, Sam’s guilt rears its ugly head.  He doesn’t deserve this; Dean could do so much better than him.  He can’t believe he had the audacity to ask for a fucking house, even though it’s more for the child than him.  He’s a loser from Giddings who sold himself to pay for college.  The self loathing becomes too much as Sam whispers, “I am nothing.”

Dean is swift in his reaction as he jerks Sam’s face so their eyes meet. “You ever say that again, I will spank you so hard you won’t sit for a week.  Do you understand?”

He lowers his eyes as he feels the anger wafting off of Dean. “Yes, sir.”

“Look at me, Sam.”

The giant complies, but he doesn’t believe Dean’s words. “Never mind.  Call Kevin back to cancel I can’t believe I..”

His master shakes his head, cutting him off, “I will not allow you to speak badly about the love of my life. I don’t care about the past.  One day you will tell me the entire story, but it doesn’t really matter.  Almost losing you…”  Dean can’t even complete his sentence as sobs halt his ability to finish.

Observing his lover astray in all that pain causes Sam to see the world through Dean’s eyes. He never made the connection until this moment.  Dean needs him to live so their love story can brighten the gray that is always there. 

The gentle giant leans back on his heels, pulling his master into his strapping solid arms. “Breathe, Dean.  I am here forever.”

Dean is clawing at Sam’s arms, struggling to gain control before he lays his head on Sam’s breast, inhaling. “I need you, Sam.”

Sam ghosts his fingers through Dean’s hair and over his face holding him tightly to his heart. “Just…Breathe...we are home.”  


	25. Chapter 25

Dean raises his gaze from the huge stacks of paper before him, “Jesus, how long have we been at this?”

Kevin checks his watch, “Its 4:30pm, so like, 2 hours. Between buying a home and selling two properties, it really does pile up.  You are lucky the bank lets you do it in your office and not at the branch.”

The CEO returns to signing his name to another stack, “Have we heard from Garth today?”

His assistant seems to fidget before answering, “Umm, he should be here at 5pm to talk with you.”

This catches Dean’s attention. He didn’t ask for a meeting just an update on the hunt for Ruby; a phone call would have been sufficient.  “Why is he coming here?”

The young man busies himself with a finished pile, putting them in order. Dean can smell that something is up because Kevin has been dicey all day.  This matches Sam’s odd behavior the past week.   He chalked it up to nerves because it has been one month to the day from his kidnapping.  Just the passing thought is enough to send shivers down Dean’s spine.  However, clearly something is up, “Kevin, look at me.”

A squeaky, “No” is all that Dean gets in return. The CEO pushes away from his desk, inhaling deeply as he tries to discover the answer.  He did notice Sam had been wearing a shirt around him like nonstop, which isn’t totally weird, they still haven’t been intimate, but his standard nightwear of boxers with bare chest has been altered.  Dean scratches at his chin, squinting at his assistant with an accusatory stare.  “Kevin, what’s going on?”

Kevin’s eyes never leave the floor as he dashes from the room his arms full of loose files. He screams over his shoulder, “Garth will explain everything, just sit there.  This is good, trust me.”

“No Christmas bonus for wimps!” Dean yells to the closed door, huffing.  Really there isn’t much he can do but finish signing the massive amount of papers. He needs to file them soon so he and Sam can move in to their new home in January.  Sam did an excellent job finding the house.  It’s located in the posh neighborhood of Highland Park, a two story modern hacienda style home with a pool in the backyard, and the most amazing basement.  It was Sam’s favorite part of the tour.  His puppy asked Hael to stay upstairs while he showed his master the insulated, soundproof basement that was perfect for a play room, his eyebrows bouncing on the last word.  A wicked grin spreads across Dean’s face as he imagines all the fun they could have down there.  He will also need to make sure that there is a monitoring system so they can hear the nursery. 

Gwen is 18 weeks along and going strong. In two weeks the three of them will go and find out the gender of the baby.  After that, Dean will begin displaying his framed first pictures.  He is still quite nervous about Gwen changing her mind, but she has been nothing but diligent in her answer.  He spends the next fifteen minutes penning his signature until Kevin and Garth enter with a knowing smile.

“How are you today, Mr. Smith?”

Dean places the final stacks together handing them to Kevin before he motions for Garth to take a seat. “I am curious about the visit.  It seems my assistant has decided to become a mute.”

Garth sits in Dean’s favorite chair, tugging it towards the desk, “Mr. Tran is a good man; I would hate for this evening to be ruined.”

The CEO rubs his hands together, “Okay cut the shit. What the hell is going on?”

The other man just laughs, “Mr. Wesson has planned a special evening for you.”

Dean eyes go wide, perplexed by the change of events, “Has he now?”

Garth stands strolling to the door, “If you would come with me? I think we might find clarity at the Rode House.”

Dean cocks an eyebrow, because now his interest has been peaked. “The Rode House?  Who is watching Sam?”

The security guard gives a fake exasperated expression, “You know I would never leave him alone. He is waiting at the Rode House under the watchful eye of the staff.  Shall we go?”

He decides to admit defeat and follow his orders for once, “Fine, but there better be a sexy puppy with hazel-brown eyes.”

A chuckle escapes the other mans lips, “I think that has been arranged, but first we stop for dinner.”

He halts mid step, “I have to eat with you?”

Garth is just shaking his head, “Yes. Now let’s go; the Limo is waiting downstairs.”

“Limo?” is all Dean gets out before Garth is shoving him out the door.

****

Two hours later they arrive at the entrance of the Rode House. Dean is at the end of his patience and is no longer having fun.  Obviously, Garth is some sort of stall tactic, but the master is starting to twitch.  He needs his puppy fix, now. It’s a typical Thursday night chaotic mess.  “Seriously, why on a Thursday?  I don’t want to deal with people?”

The valet kid opens the door as Garth gives Dean’s ass a big shove, hollering, “You will find Ellen at the second floor bar.”

Dean turns to the man in the car, “I am not amused.”

Garth just grins “Go.”

 Taking a deep breath, the CEO saunters pass the red velvet rope without a second glance.  He hears a very complementary comment about his fine figure, which makes him smirk and wave.  He doesn’t even acknowledge the first floor as he proceeds to the black velvet rope that is lifted before he reaches it.  He scurries up the stairs and rushes to the bar. 

 Ellen is leaning against the dark wood with a martini in her hand.  She winks with a fiendish grin, “Hi sweetheart; did you have a nice dinner?”

A beer magically appears next to her. Dean seizes it gulping down half the glass.  “Where is Sam?”

Dean is actually trembling with the desire to see his sweet boy. She finishes her drink first before handing Dean a white key.  “Room four.”

The master takes the key, but with trepidation. “There are items in that room, Ellen.”  Panic is spreading through his body as he thinks of all the triggers for his Sammy.

His dear Ellen puts her hand over his, “I helped prep the room myself. He’s fine and waiting for you.  He has requested jeans, and nothing else.”

All of a sudden things are starting to come together in Dean’s mind. He kisses Ellen on the lips before sprinting to the white elevator doors.  He steps onto the bright white tile, turning to the unmarked door, quickly gaining access.  It’s been over a month since he has opened his locker, but excitement is keeping the nostalgia at bay.  He drags his finger down the pile of jeans grabbing the pair from that first night.

His first instinct is to run for room four but he settles his nerves and takes his time ambling down the corridor. Then he spots the gold number with the door cracked open.  His heartbeat takes off fluttering like a child on Christmas. The love of his life has been waiting for his appearance, and Dean never lets his Sammy down.

He taps the door with his finger letting it fall forward, presenting the most amazing surprise. Dean staggers into the completely changed room.  All the toys and bondage furniture has been removed, and in its place are dozens and dozens of red and white roses.  There are white tables lining all four walls, holding flowers, and even the white painted floor is brimming with roses in clear glass vases.  In the center of the room is a king size mattress with red silk sheets.  The most stunning man is perched atop the silk sheets with his legs crossed wearing nothing but a smile.

He savors the view as his eyes graze down the beautiful body of his baby boy. He startles when he sees a tattoo over his lover’s heart.  “What the hell is that, Sam?”

An innocent puppy dog face steals his breath, “It’s called an anti-possession symbol.”

Dean kneels down on the bed, touching the mark on Sam’s breast. “Why would you get that?”

His Sammy collects his fingers kissing them softly, “I want it to remind me that I am possessed by one man, and no other can have me.”

The sentiment makes Dean’s heart swell with pride, as he kisses it gently. “I think it would only be fitting that I reciprocate.”

Sam shakes his head yes, “I thought that might be the case; so I have a tattoo artist waiting in Ellen’s office. She will be there all night, so we don’t need to hurry.”

The master is completely in awe at the scene before him. “What is all this, Sammy?”

His puppy pulls himself to his knees so the two men are facing one another surrounded by silk and roses. “First, this is a thank you.  Dean you give me everything; support, patience, love, friendship and soon a home.  I would love you with or without it, but thank you, nonetheless.”

Sam covers Dean’s mouth with his as their arms envelope each other in a tender embrace. The kiss is soft as their tongues caress each other’s in love.  Dean can taste mint and Sammy, which is his favorite flavor.

“You are welcome Sam. Everything I do is because I love you, now and forever.”

Their lips return to find a more passionate kiss waiting, full of desire with scraping of teeth and nipping at the neck. Panting, Dean separates their lips but leaves their noses touching.  “Is there a second reason for tonight?”

A naughty grin builds on his puppy’s face, “I think the second one is more obvious, and requires me to show you.”

Dean observes his sweet boy reach down, procuring a bottle of lube from under a silk pillow. Sam places the solution into his master’s hands before lowering himself to all fours.  “Please.”

Suddenly the world stops as Dean’s cock goes rock hard with a throbbing need for that delicious ass. He stands to find a condom when Sam grabs his wrist.  “We have everything we need right here, Dean.”

The master takes the fingers, bringing each one to his mouth, suckling them lightly. “I agree you are all I will ever need, Sam Wesson, but I was a fool and didn’t put a condom in my pocket.”

Sam snatches Dean’s waistband tugging hard, causing him to fall on top of his puppy. They tumble to the supple sheets sliding into the other.  “No Dean.  We don’t need one, not anymore.”

He takes Sam’s chin into his fingers, gazing into his lover’s eyes. “Are you sure?  Baby steps are fine with me.”

There is no hesitation from his gentle giant, “No more barriers, Dean, just your skin against mine.”

The master rises to his feet, his eyes locked on those gorgeous hazel-brown beauties. “I won’t be needing these.”  Dean gradually unbuttons his fly before tossing his jeans to the bed side.  He lowers himself to all fours, creeping up his sweet boy, stopping occasionally to grace the supple skin with sensual kisses.  His body is screaming for release, but Dean wants to take his time, worshipping every piece of Sam.

As Dean reaches Sam’s mouth, he drops his body slowly onto Sam, sliding up then down creating friction between their bare skin. He licks Sam’s lips before dragging his tongue down the sweet boy’s neck, placing a quick bite to his collarbone.  Sammy moans deep and low at the physical connection.  The master bounces up, grinding his mouth into Sam’s, making the kiss hard, penetrating his tongue down Sam’s throat.

Once they are both panting from the kiss, Dean nips at the other man’s collarbone before working his tongue down his long, tasty torso.   He places chaste kisses up his giant’s shaft before grasping Sam’s thighs shoving them up over his head.  This leaves his ass displayed like a meal for the master.  He starts at the base of his cock, licking up and down over that lovely crack.  The master smiles into his work as he hears his lover coming undone, “Fuck, Dean.  Holy shit.”

Reaching out, he seizes the lube, pouring it on his fingers. He tilts Sam’s pelvis so Dean can reach his cock properly, taking it into his mouth as he thrusts two fingers into his sweet boy.  The guttural groan from Sam just makes his own cock leak with pre-cum.  Dean bobs his head up and down the long, powerful dick as his fingers plunge into that sweet ass.  He knows it won’t be long until he is rewarded.  His sweet boy grasps Dean’s hair, jerking him violently as the master’s throat is saturated with a thick salty treat.  

“Sammy, you ready?”

The last thing Dean hears is, “Please.”

Suddenly, he is astray in skin as he thrusts his cock deep inside his remarkable giant’s hole. Somewhere close by he can hear another moan, but Dean is lost in the sensation of soft, warm pleasure.  Taking his time to savor the feeling, Dean rides his Sam, slowly building speed only over time.  He rolls his hips into that tight ass over, and over, until he blows his load leaving bits of himself inside his lover.  Dean tumbles onto Sam, resting his head over the anti-possession tattoo.  He closes his eyes catching his breath as he listens to the beating heart.

 


	26. Chapter 26

“Why do I have to go?” Dean whines sitting on the edge of the bed as his puppy dresses for the evening.

Sam steps into Dean’s space, rocking his hips into his master’s chest. He has pants on but nothing above the belt.  Reaching up, he traces the tattoo on Sam’s chest, taking a moment to feel his heartbeat before grasping Sam’s head, pulling those lips down to his for a lingering kiss, “We could get back in the shower.  I will make it worth your while.”

His sweet boy swats his arm, “This is a celebratory dinner for Jess. She is graduating with an MBA from UT Dallas.  This is huge and she has asked us to join them.”

Dean would much rather ravish his lover, but Sam staying in touch with his friends is extremely important. He takes a deep breath before crossing to the dresser to retrieve his socks, “Who is going to be there?”

The gentle giant knows he has found a small victory as he strolls into the closet for a shirt, “Jess, her Mom, us and Gwen. Don’t forget about tomorrow.”

The master smacks Sam in the head with a pair of black socks when he reemerges, “Do you honestly think I would forget tomorrow?”

 “You are a very busy man, running a multi-billion dollar corporation.  A sonogram of your first child and finding out their gender might have slipped your mind.”

He tackles his puppy as they tumble to bed, “Never. You, me, and Bobby John are my number one priority.”

Sam gives Dean a lengthy full kiss before scrunching his face, “Bobby John?? Seriously it sounds like we are living in the sticks.  Veto.”

Dean releases his lover as they finish dressing, “It’s our fathers names put together. You like Mary Jo.”

“I do cause that sounds lovely for a little girl. Bobby John for a boy sounds like he should be missing teeth and working at a BBQ joint.”

He is scratching at his tattoo when Sam whacks his fingers away. “You have to stop itching.  It’s going to get infected.”

“I don’t understand why yours healed so damn fast.” Dean turns so he can once again have the sweet release of deep scratching.

“Cause I actually put Neosporin on it like they told us to do.”

****

Dinner is a quiet affair with lots of clinking glasses to the recent grad. Dean can’t stop staring at Gwen’s baby bump.  In the last few weeks, it has become very prominent, and he just wants to touch it.  He reminds himself that he wouldn’t feel anything, but the desire to just be near the child grows with each second.

It’s during dessert when Gwen leans over and whispers to him, “You can touch my belly. I don’t mind.”

Dean is dying of embarrassment because clearly his staring has been quite overt. Yet, he doesn’t want to miss the opportunity.  The others at the table are talking about Jess’s job offer in Houston.  He inhales sharply trying to calm his nerves.  He doesn’t want to be shaking when he lays his hand on her tummy.  His fingers freezes just an inch above the round bump.  Dean tries to move, but he’s never been more scared of a body part in his entire life.

Gwen takes his fingers into hers, “You can’t hurt the baby. She’s safe because of you.”

His eyes lift to meet hers, “She?”

“Well it’s a guess, we will find out tomorrow anyway.” Gwen places his fingers over the bump as Dean holds his breath.  He closes his eyes as he imagines the beating of a heart.  His thoughts drift to a tiny little bundle in his giants arms. 

Dean is not a praying man. He hasn’t gone to church since he was a kid.  In spite of that he takes a moment to ask any higher power that’s listening to keep her safe.  To make him a good father and give him the one thing he never had with Ash; a family.  A single tear falls to his cheek as the young mother cups his face.  “You will give her and Sam a wonderful life.  Thank you Dean.”

When Dean finally exhales, he opens his eyes, “Anything you want, Gwen. All you have to do is ask.”

A faint tired smile fills her face, “After the baby is born, I want to leave Texas. I have a friend in Chicago.  Maybe you could help me get there.”

Dean kisses her cheek, “First class all the way, Gwen.”

A giant size hand covers Dean’s over her belly. Dean looks up and stares into his favorite hazel-brown eyes.  In that moment they could be the only people in the entire restaurant.  Everyone else simply drifts away as Sam and Dean make space in their growing hearts for her.

****

The next morning Dean, Sam, and Gwen are sitting in the white ultrasound room waiting on the obstetrician to perform the exam. Sam and his sister are discussing birthing scenarios while Dean paces the tiny space.  Last night was spectacular, but now he is swimming in fear.  There are so many things that can go wrong with her pregnancy.  Having done heroin in the first trimester, and still having to take oral methadone to alleviate her withdraw pain, will have lasting effects.  It was easy for Dean to ignore these things until he crossed the threshold into this room.  The screening will of course tell them the gender, but also give a more accurate understanding about the child’s development.

Without warning, there is a strong hand grabbing the CEO’s shoulder. “Dean, you are going to burn a hole into the floor, calm down.”

Dean is trying to be positive, but his track record with illnesses is not great. “Yes.  I’m fine.”

His lovely boy brings Dean into a tight embrace whispering, “We love this child no matter what, right?”

He nods his head yes because Sam is right. This child will be loved regardless of gender, or health problems.

The door opens and a shorter gentleman with dark blue scrubs and a white lab coat struts in, “Okay kiddos, how are we all doing today?”

Gwen immediately smiles, which Dean notices only because it’s so drastic, like her entire face lights up near this guy. “Hi, Dr. Gabriel.”

“Hello Gwen, are we ready to get jellied up?”

She nods her head, pulling her shirt up so he can spread the gooey mess around her tummy. “Okay boys, now which one is the brother?”

Sam steps over raising his hand. “Me.”

Dr. Gabriel is pulling out equipment as he tosses Dean a passing glance, “So that would make you Mr. Moneybags, right?”

Gwen pretends to be shocked, swatting at the man, “Stop. Don’t call him that.”

“The man signs my checks, so I will call him whatever he wants.”

Dean steps over to the monitor, “Mr. Smith is fine.”

Dr. Gabriel smirks as he begins the ultrasound.

****

The following Saturday morning Dean is putting on his running sweats when a thought occurs to him. He strolls into the kitchen where Sam is reading a baby book.  “Would you like to go for a jog?”

Sam doesn’t even try to hide the shock on his face. “I’m sorry what did you say?”

Dean rolls his eyes, “Would you like to come with me?”

“I want to say yes, but I am worried it’s a trick question.”

“Fucking put on some clothes, and we will go.”

Twenty minutes later, they are jogging side by side, trying to keep warm from the blustering cold wind. Sam keeps sliding his eyes towards Dean, trying to decipher the sudden change of heart.  Dean honestly couldn’t tell him if he asked.  This is something that is sacred to Dean.  He has made this journey every Saturday since Ash’s death, save one.  The Saturday that his sweet boy lay unconscious on his bed with his back covered in bandages.  Dean physically shakes his head to release the horrible memory.

Dean has the entire distance mapped out. Sam doesn’t say a word, he just follows his master like a good puppy.  Then, Dean halts just outside the iron gates.  He scans the big open cemetery beyond the entrance.  He isn’t even aware that he has started taking in deep breaths blowing them out loudly.

Sam taps his shoulder, “You know Dean, there’s a café on the corner. Why don’t I get a coffee, and you meet me when you’re done?”

The large man turns to leave when Dean seizes his hand tugging it close. “No.  Like you said Sammy, no more barriers.”

Dean marches into the graveyard, dragging a silent Sam behind him. The sky is dark and gloomy with a gray overcast.  The wind is frosty and whips at Dean’s face, but he is set in his resolve.  He tightens his grip on Sam’s hand as they reach their destination.

For a very long time, the two men stand quietly, holding hands over Ash’s grave. Dean finally finds his voice, although it’s hushed like he is telling a secret. “Sam, meet Ash.  He was my friend, my confidant, my lover, my husband.  We were together for 24 years, and he will always have a place in my heart.  I won’t lie to you, Sam those gunmetal gray eyes are a permanent part of me. I don’t know how to live without them.  But, before he died…” 

Tears are sweeping over the master’s face, but Sam simply waits. Dean releases several sobs then continues, “He requested only one thing of me; to fall in love again.”

Dean frees Sam’s hand as he steps towards the tombstone, kneeling down. He kisses the marble gingerly, “Ash, this is Sam.  He is smart, kind, loving, strong, and God, so beautiful.  Please give us your blessing.”

In that moment, the wind sweeps through the cemetery with a bone-chilling wail. But Dean can only feel the warmth in his heart overflowing as he turns to his Sam.  The gentle giant wipes a tear from his cheek as Dean takes his hand, still kneeling before him.  “Sam Wesson, you are my sunshine.  You sparkle so brightly, it takes away all the gray.  Will you marry me?”

Sam drags the master to his feet, kissing him passionately. His sweet boy’s hands are stroking Dean’s hair and face, when the kiss breaks he rests his forehead on his lovers.  “Yes, Dean.  I will spend my life with you, and our daughter.”


	27. Chapter 27

The silver Aston Martin pulls up to the valet parking at the Rode House. It’s Saturday so once again, Dean is cursing about coming on a busy night, but it was a must.  Tonight is a celebration.  His sweet boy has agreed to become his husband, and Dean is bursting with joy.  He squeezes Sam’s hand as his gentle giant turns to glance at him, “Are you sure you want to?  We could go out for a nice dinner or something?”

Dean shakes his head, “My Sammy wants to go dancing, then that’s what we are doing. Check the glove box.”

Sam rolls his eyes with an exaggerated huff, “Not a gift Dean. I told you nothing until Christmas then you can go crazy.”

His master simply shrugs with a smirk, “I had this done after the ultrasound, so I don’t think it counts.”

The large man opens the tiny door revealing a black box with a simple white bow. Sam is all too aware of what has emerged from such a container.  “Dean what did you do?  You didn’t have a little pink collar made?”

He dies laughing at the thought, “Hell no, Mary Jo’s gonna be a proper dominatrix.”

Just then, the valet kids simultaneously open the doors to the car, “Congratulations Mr. Smith, Mr. Wesson.”

Sam tucks the box in his jacket as he exits the car, then waits for Dean. After their fingers are interlaced, they head into the club.  Once again the far corner of the first floor has been roped off.  There are drinks and food spread over two tables, but Ellen has really gone all out.  Hanging on the wall is a silver banner “Congratulations on Your Engagement” embossed across it.  Several dozen silver and black balloons fill the space making Dean chuckle. “Well there goes keeping it to ourselves for a while.”

His puppy removes his jacket, tossing it to a chair, but not before retrieving the gift inside. “Screw that, Dean.  We deserve a night for us.  A few more months and we won’t be able to do this anymore.”

Dean scrunches his face with worry, “What is that suppose to mean? Haven’t you ever heard of a babysitter?”

“Do you honestly think you will leave her with a babysitter?” a mocking face bitch slapping him.

“Umm my mother and her service weapon, covered by Garth at the front door sounds perfect for a night out.”

His sweet puppy kisses him deeply as he just smirks with doubt. Finally he is opening the black and white present.  Sam’s breath catches in his throat as he recognizes the soft leather collar with two diamonds and the infinity sign.  However, instead of just two clear cut gorgeous diamonds there is a pink diamond added just below them.  Sam touches the new jewel completely surprised by the addition.  “Dean, it’s our family.”

Dean takes the collar, placing it around his puppy’s neck. “Yes, now this is a symbol of our family together for eternity.”

He is rewarded with Sam attacking his lips with a deep, hard, desire filled kiss. The master becomes undone at the taste, feel, and smell of his sweet boy.  This strikingly handsome man is his forever.  Dean is suddenly overwhelmed with emotions as he takes in the amazing life he has been given.  Sam snaps him out of it as he breaks the sensual kiss, “I want to dance.”

“As you wish” the master replies with a wink.

“E.T.” by Katy Perry blares from the speakers as Dean guides his gentle giant to the middle of the dance floor. He tugs his lover into his space, their hips slamming together.  Dean begins rolling his body as Sam matches his movements.  Every inch of their skin is touching, Sam’s powerful hands stroking Dean’s hair as he drags his teeth down the master’s neck.  Dean uses his fingers, grasping that delicious ass massaging it tenderly while pushing puppy’s hips deeper into Dean’s wanting crotch.  The world around them disappears as the two men grind against each other until their dicks are hard and they are panting gasping for air.  The sensation is intoxicating as Dean takes in his favorite drug.  The strobe lights adding to the ambience of complete bliss as he ignores everything but Sam.  Dean dives his nostrils into his puppy’s neck, tickling his nose over the supple leather before taking a bite of his collarbone.  Dean’s teeth are sinking deeply into his flesh, just enough to leave his mark upon the silky smooth delicacy.  Sam’s skin tastes like salty, slick, sweat which arouses Dean as his mind drifts to other salty treats.

The two lovers don’t even pause as the song changes to “Dangerous” by Big Data. Dean finds Sam’s mouth as their tongues fondle each other, their breaths becoming one.  Several strokes of the tongue later Sam is yelling into Dean’s ear, “I think we might need to move this upstairs, before we both keel over from blue balls.”

Dean releases a loud cackle as his smile touches those beautiful emerald green eyes. “Whatever you want Sammy.”  Dean wraps himself with puppy arms as they move over to their private section.  Abruptly everything goes sideways when Dean’s eyes glance at the table.  Perched next to his ice-cold beer is a large brown envelope with “GOODBYE DEAN SMITH” written in black sharpie.  Immediately Dean is pulling out his cell phone texting: _911 Code Red._

 Six security guards emerge from the shadows, surrounding Dean and Sam.  Dean screams to the closest one, “Grab the package on the table, take it to the Frisco house in a separate vehicle.”  The female agent nods as she disappears into the sea of people.

Then the five remaining agents move as a group, steering Sam and Dean out a fire exit. Sam’s eyes are wild, and Dean can feel him shiver with fear.  The master squeezes his hand, “We are okay Sam, it’s just a precaution.”

Moments later, the unit is in the alley as a black Tahoe speeds towards them. In the mere seconds between the doors being thrown open and the crew climbing in two shots are fired at the vehicle.  Dean has no thoughts except one; save Sam.  He throws his lover to the floorboards of the SUV scrambling on top of him, spreading his body like a blanket over his sweet boy.  Then he shouts in a commanding voice, “go, go, go.”

The vehicle squeals the tires as the driver floors the gas pedal, catapulting them out of the alley heading towards a safe house in a town just north of Dallas. The cabin of the SUV is filled with frantic shouting as the staff assesses the safest route.  In the massive commotion, Dean is shrieking at Sam, “Are you hit?”

The giant of a man is quaking below him as he answers in a broken voice, “No, but there’s something in my eyes. Get off me so I can wipe them.”

Dean has absolutely no intention of moving, “let me do it.” He wipes a red sticky substance from his lover’s hazel-brown eyes.  His entire world is turned upside down as he finally registered what is all over Sam.  “It’s blood,” he yells, desperately searching Sam’s body for the injury but he can’t find anything. 

His puppy is stroking Dean’s shoulder when the master lets out a blood curdling howl. “Dean!  You’ve been shot.”

A wave of awareness smacks him as the adrenaline no longer can mask the pain of his wound. He is clawing at consciousness trying not to pass out.  His eyes lock with Sam’s.  He can see his own terror mirrored in those gorgeous whiskey-green eyes.  He moves his good arm to wipe more blood from his sweet boys face.  “It’s okay, Sam.  You are safe.”

“No shit Sherlock but you’re not; we need to get you to a hospital.”

Dean kisses his Sammy, letting his lips linger, tasting the tangy bitter flavor of his own blood. “Garth will have the Doc meet us there.  It’s all smooth sailing from here.  You are safe.”

The last thing Dean sees is his sweet boy’s wide eyes full of shock and horror as his master crumples to oblivion above him.


	28. Chapter 28

Sam is caught under Dean’s body as he watches him pass out. He cries out several times, “Dean!  Fucking, Dean answer me!”

There is no response as his fiancé is a lifeless lump bearing down on him. Sam tries to remain calm, but no one is doing anything.  There are five other people in the stupid Tahoe.  “Someone help me, he’s bleeding out.”

Hands are appearing out of nowhere, dragging Dean off Sam. One of the guards is pulling out white medical pads to hold against the injury while another is yelling into his phone the extent of the damage.  “Mr. Smith has received a single gunshot wound to his upper right shoulder.  We are applying pressure now.  It seems to be a through and through with severe blood loss.  Unfortunately, he is no longer conscious.”

Sam is shaking so bad his teeth are rattling. This can’t be happening.  Please God don’t let me lose him.  The young guard yelling into the phone turns his attention to Sam, “Mr. Wesson is not physically harmed but does seem to be in shock, possibly PTSD from his previous trauma.”

The gentle giant reaches out, holding Dean’s hand. He focuses on that beautiful hand and all it has done for him.  It has stroked Sam’s body, his hair, his cock until he came.  This hand has created a world where Sam is the center, and everything revolves around him.  Tears are exploding from his eyes as the thought of losing this hand, this man, his master, creates another wave of terror.  He battles to get air in his lungs because his chest is so tight, there is no room.  He places tender kisses to each finger, begging to anyone listening, “Don’t die Dean.  Please don’t die.  Jodi needs you.  Charlie needs you.  Mary Jo needs you.”  His voice cracks as the sobs become too much, “I need you.”   

He feels a pinch at his shoulder as a strange euphoria washes over his body. He notices that someone has injected him with something that’s making him very drowsy.  “What the hell?”

“A sedative Mr. Wesson you may not want to watch the next part.”

Sam wants to ask about what the fuck could possibly happen next but the words never leave his mouth as he drifts to sleep. He drops his head next to Dean’s still holding that precious hand.

****

Sam’s eyes flutter open, he is laying on his back in a small bare room. The only light is from the moon as the beams flow in through the blinds.  He is on a mattress covered with tattered stained white sheets.  The white walls are empty, leaving Sam to wonder where the hell is he?  His clothes and skin are caked in a red, dry, flakey substance, making him itch.  The giant man is flooded with memories as an urge to find Dean swims to the surface.  He steps out into a small hallway, which is just as barren as the room.

He starts as a woman with dark wavy hair and pale blue scrubs taps his shoulder, “Where ya headed big guy? You are supposed to be resting.”

Sam’s voice is rough and dry, “Dean. I need to see him.”

The nurse cocks her eyebrow knowingly, “Lover boy is in the master bedroom, last door on the right, but they have him sedated. It will be a one sided conversation.”

“I don’t care.” Sam heads down the hall as the petite brunette follows him, “Umm, can I have a moment with him alone.”

“Sure, but no funny business. He pops a stitch and it’s my ass.”

“Got it. Thanks, Nurse…umm, what’s your name?”

The woman pats his hand, “Nurse Masters, now go before the Doc comes back and the shit hits the fan.”

Sam nods his head as he slinks towards the closed door. He has no idea how bad it is going to be in there, so he gives himself a beat before pushing the door.  This room is larger but just as bleak.  The queen size bed sits in the far corner as the only furniture.  An IV tower and a silver medical tray sit next to the bed.  There are several lamps lining the walls making the room extremely bright even in the dead of night.

Sam halts as his eyes catch his sleeping master. All of Dean’s clothes have been removed, and a simple white sheet is draped over his lower half.  His right shoulder is swaddled in white fabric.  A needle in his left arm is attached to the IV.  The air in the room becomes thick and painful to breathe as Sam tries to inhale and fails.  His heart is racing so fast, the gentle giant is seeing stars.  Somewhere deep inside him, Sam finds the force to pull himself together.  He takes several slow breaths before he staggers up to the edge of the bed.  Sam strips all his clothes, leaving only the collar, tossing them to the dusty floor before crawling next to Dean’s leg.  He doesn’t want to harm him any further so he stays clear of the shoulder and IV arm, but the puppy curls up in a ball, resting his head on his master’s thigh.  The large man doesn’t care who finds him naked next to Dean.  He gingerly pets the supple leather around his neck. This is where he belongs and where he will stay because there is one constant in Dean’s life.  Sam gets whatever he wants. 

*****

Sam doesn’t want to wake. His brain is foggy and his mouth is dry causing him to cough.  He has slept the entire night in one position making his muscles ache, but there is something else.  He cracks open one eye glancing at the thigh pillow below him.  Then the night before plays through his head like a well choreographed nightmare.  A dark red throw blanket has been tossed over the giant.  Sam finds the small soft fabric welcoming and reassuring.  No one attempted to move him and Sam smiles knowing that they never will.

He traces Dean’s knee and calf with his finger, letting his touch linger over his love. Sam is in no rush, if Dean is here, then he has no reason to move.  He rolls over, spreading his lengthy arm up towards Dean’s matching tattoo.  He covers the black mark with his palm as he lets the rhythm of Dean’s heartbeat lull him back to sleep.   An hour later, Sam’s tummy grumbles and he hears a snarky voice from the corner of the room.  “Starving yourself is not good for anyone Sam.”

He has to cough several times before he can retort, “I will eat when Dean does.”

Nurse Masters strolls into his view, “See that IV in his arm? He is eating moron.  Now get up and cover that huge salami before I bite it.”

A chuckle leaves his tired throat, “I don’t have any clean clothes.”

“Bathroom has everything you need. I would suggest a shower too.  You stink.”

Sam gradually rises to his feet, stretching and popping all his taught joints, wrapping the blanket around his waist. He heads for the master bath when Nurse Masters clutches his wrist with her black nails.  “You might want to remove the fancy choker.  The water will ruin it.”

The puppy glimpses down at his master, “He put it on me. Only he can take it off.””  He leaves Dean to her care while he attempts to remove the blood and grime from the previous night.

*****

After giving Dean several kisses to his face, neck, and ears, Nurse Masters kicks him out. Sam ambles towards the kitchen in search of food.  The aroma of bacon and eggs leads him to the dining room which is bustling with activity.  There are maybe half a dozen people seated around a cheap dining room table.  Sam recognizes a few faces as Garth stands gesturing to his seat, “Here you go Sam.  Would you like breakfast?”

Sam nods yes as he sits down. A plate of eggs, bacon, and toast is set before him along with a coffee and orange juice.  Sam is about to devour the meal when he notices pictures taped to the wall.  “Garth what are those?”

The lanky security expert faces Sam, “Why don’t you eat first, and then we can go over everything? I promise.”

The gentle giant is too hungry to fight so he obeys, cleaning his plate and draining the juice and coffee. After he is done eating, Sam strides over to the wall, peering at the photos.  The first in the series of four is a shot of him.  He’s standing with Hael outside of her office drinking coffee.  He realizes this was sometime last week when they met to discuss design options for the nursery.  The second photo is Gwen sitting in the backyard of the halfway house.  She is laughing with her housemates but a shiver runs over Sam as he spots the red line drawn with marker over her swollen belly.  The next one is Jodi in her Deputy Sheriff uniform outside of a Dallas courthouse building.  The photo is recent, because the bushes behind her are lined with twinkling lights.  The final photo is a mystery to Sam.  The man is sitting on a bench in what looks like a rose garden.  He is wearing white scrubs with a dirty trench coat, and a white hospital band. 

Garth stands just off to the side, allowing Sam to examine the pictures. “Garth, who is the trench coat guy?”

The security agent clears his throat, “That’s Cas. He’s still at Green Oaks, but they were able to get a shot of him in the hospital gardens.  It’s a warning.”

Sam turns with a quizzical look, “Warning for who?”

“Dean. All of these photos could have been through a rifle lens.  They are telling him that his family is vulnerable.”

“Where did you get these?”

Garth places his hand on Sam’s shoulder, “The package that set everything in motion. It had these photos and a note.”

“What note?”

The other man sighs before pointing to the other wall. A single piece of paper is tacked to the middle. In a loopy feminine handwriting; _Eye for an eye_ is scrawled in blank ink.  Sam turns, looking at the four photos as the connection is made. Dean killed four people in Giddings, now they are being hunted. 

“Where is Gwen?”

Garth takes his hand leading him into the living room where two leather couches fill the small room. Sam perches on the end of one, facing Garth, who sits on the other.  “Garth, where is my sister and our daughter?”

“They are safe.” Sam exhales the breath he was holding as he waves his hand for Garth to continue.

“When Dean texted me a code red, it meant several things were to be done simultaneously; the first was that you and Dean were to be transported here, the second was that Gwen and Jodi were to be taken to a second safe house in East Dallas, and then once Mr. Smith lost consciousness, Mr. Singer was notified.”

Sam nods his head until the final statement, “Who is Mr. Singer?”

Surprise spreads across the other man’s face, “Oh I would have thought you knew?”

“I am too exhausted for games. Who the fuck is Mr. Singer?”

“He is Dean’s father.”


	29. Chapter 29

Sam rests his head curled up next to Dean. He’s in an old pair of jeans and a white v-neck, reading to his lover to pass the time.  The last 72 hours have been terrifying, and Sam likes the gentle sound of Dean breathing mixed with his own voice.  He is on the second book now, and sometimes he stops to check on Gwen or to eat, but other than that he just perches next his master, holding the paperback book in his large hand, letting the other one trace Dean’s face, hair, neck, tummy any place that isn’t injured. 

Dean’s father arrived on day one and took charge. Mr. Singer, or Bobby as he asked to be called, is a very no nonsense kind of guy.  He is shorter than Dean, with a well-kept beard.  Sam’s never seen him in anything other than jeans, t-shirt, and a flannel, and always with a navy blue ball cap.  He is a very strong, authoritative person and Sam can see where Dean gets it, but the gentle giant is skittish around the new addition.  Dean didn’t really make the choice for them to meet, so Sam is unsure how to be with his master around Bobby.  Basically he has become a ghost to the older man.  Whenever Bobby walks into a room, the puppy strides right out of it, the two men are courteous to each other with head nods of acknowledgement, but that is all.  Whenever Jodi comes to visit her son, Sam usually uses the time to run an errand.  He would stay because Sam enjoys her company, but the first time she saw him, the weeping Mom gave him a huge loving hug.  It was just too much for Sam, and he sobbed for 10 minutes in her arms.  It wasn’t until Dean’s sweet boy raised his head that he noticed Bobby standing just watching the interaction.  Sam has been a quiet mouse ever since. 

Now that he is second fiddle to Bobby, the flow of information has dried up, so Sam has taken to eavesdropping on the dining room crew from the hall. Nurse Masters is the only one who has caught him, and she just snickered and didn’t say a word.  It seems that the original target in the shooting was Sam, which made his blood run cold.  When Dean shoved him forward, bending over him, is how the bullet struck his master.  The current assumption is that it’s a small group of three or four people working together for vengeance.  Sam can understand that.  Giddings is a small town in Texas where blood is thick and families protect their own.  The one thing that Sam can’t get his head around is how a man who runs a junkyard in North Dakota, and a CEO of a video gaming company know so much about security and guns and such.

Sam’s voice is soft, but loud enough so he knows Dean can hear him as he reads, “But he went down on his knees on the carpet next to me, and he showed me his teeth, and he waved that tangle of string in my face. See?  See?  See?  He asked Cat’s cradle.  See the cat’s cradle?”

The gentle giant starts as someone clears their throat behind him. “Kurt Vonnegut?”

Sam jumps from the bed when he realizes that its Bobby standing in the doorway. “Yes.  I started with Slaughterhouse Five and now Cat’s Cradle.”

The older gentlemen steps into the room, his hands raised in a calming motion, “No need to get up Sam. You looked very comfortable.”

“It’s okay I can go visit Gwen if you need some time with Dean.” Sam moves around the bed when Bobby blocks his exit.

“Son, I danced at Dean’s first wedding and I have even marched in one of those fancy rainbow parades. I am not oblivious to Dean’s choices I know you’re his …..”

The older man is snapping his fingers trying to remember the slang for their relationship. Sam decides to help him out, “puppy.”

“That’s it. I wanted to say bear cub or something cute, but I knew that wasn’t right.  And one day we will be family, right?”

The tall puppy grins, “Yes we are getting married. I wasn’t sure how you felt about …”

Bobby strides forward giving Sam an awkward hug, “I am happy for the two of you. Dean needs someone in his life, permanently, and from what I hear you are good for him.”

Sam blushes, he was not expecting this almost affectionate moment with Dean’s father. He will never know what his Dad thought about his lifestyle and well Samuel just ignores it.  All the love and affection pouring from Jodi and Bobby amazes him.  “Hey Bobby, can I ask you a question?”

“Why not, I’ve got time?”

He is not sure how to word it, so he does the best he can, “How do you and Dean know so much about, like, security stuff?”

A faint tired smile drags across Dean’s dad, “I haven’t always been in the junkyard business. Also, my name wasn’t Singer until I retired.  When I met Jodi, I was a well paid high risk bounty hunter.  My work entailed going after the worst of the worst, and trying to survive.  I love Dean’s mom, but we both knew the relationship was doomed.  She was extremely young and I had a dangerous job.  So when Dean came along, we knew it was best if we just shared custody.  I gave Dean the family name, and I lived under an old alias.  My uncle died, leaving me the junkyard when Dean was two, and it just worked out.  Dean would spend his summers in North Dakota with me, and the school year with his Mom in Dallas.  Now, of course, when he was old enough, I taught him everything I knew and he was an excellent student.  Although, the sharp shooting he learned from his Mom.”

“Thank you. That training has saved my life twice now.”

Bobby just nods his head. “Dean’s a good kid.  Now I am sure he would rather listen to your voice then mine.”

Sam grins and returns to his spot when Bobby snaps his fingers, “Oh and another thing.”

“Yes.”

“Quit hiding in the hallway when we have a meeting in the dining room, we are all paid professionals. We know you are there and it takes to much effort not to laugh.  This is about your family Sam.  You have a right to have an opinion.  I trained Garth, and so his default setting is to listen to my every word, but I want you to feel welcome to chime in whenever you want.  Got it?”

The gentle giant is completely taken back by these kind words. He simply shakes his head yes, and then Bobby is gone, leaving Sam to ponder this new idea, his family.


	30. Chapter 30

Dean felt the soft cotton sheets and the soft pillow under his head. He knew his shoulder was injured and he could just make out the sound of his sweet boy reading.  The tender stroking of Sam’s delicate fingers easing his nerves, reassuring him that his puppy is safe.  Then a surge of unconsciousness would hit and he would be lost to his dreams and nightmares.  This is how the master spent his days.  He would come just to the surface, being drawn to that sensual deep soft caress of Sam’s voice and touch.  Dean would try to tell his eyes to open, his mouth to speak, but nothing, and then he was gone again.  Slowly, over time, he was able to stay with Sam longer, listen to the stories form before drifting off.  He felt like he was at sea and his ability to focus came and went like the tide.

Finally the words were clearer, and he could actually comprehend what Sam was saying to him. “Bedtime and nap times must be done the same way each time.  As I’ve stressed throughout, babies are creatures of habit.  They like to know what’s coming next…”

His voice is rough and cracks a little, “Sammy what the hell are you reading?”

“Dean!” Is all he hears before his face is smothered with a multitude of kindhearted kisses. 

At last Dean opens his eyes. He looks for his one true north, the love of his life, his Sammy.  His kind giant is standing over him, his face is full of scruff and his eyes swimming with worry.  “I’m fine Sammy.  How are you?”

There is a touch of anger behind those whiskey-green eyes, “You are not fine, Dean. You were shot and you have been unconscious for several days.  It’s already Christmas Eve.”

Dean attempts to sit up, but the pain in his shoulder stops him. “What? Christmas Eve? I have to get everything ready for tomorrow.”

Sam gentle guides him back to his pillow, “No, you need to finish resting. A gunshot wound is serious business Dean.  I think I just got the one thing I asked for this Christmas.”

He knew that Sam was setting him up but hell he took the bait. “What did you ask for Sam?”

His sweet boy kisses his forehead, “You with me.”

“Umm, haven’t you been with me all week? Or have you been running around with someone new?”

Sam pretends to smack his arm and then winks, “I mean you awake, talking, being in charge. Although I have to say Bobby is a really nice guy.”

That clears the cobwebs really damn fast, “My dad is here?”

“It’s procedure when you lose consciousness for Bobby to be notified. He’s a pretty awesome guy.”

Dean rolls his eyes. His Dad can be quite the charmer, “Okay, so we are in Frisco is everyone else okay?”

“Yes. We are all safe.”                  

He takes a deep calming breath. Now Dean’s Christmas wish has been granted.

****

Dean was not going to ruin Christmas. He had a team get the penthouse ready overnight so that everyone could meet there for the holiday.  He had to wear a sling and promise to sit whenever possible but his doctor agreed.

The entire morning was scheduled with waves of visitors to the white tower. Dean and Sam were the first to arrive really early Christmas morning.  The master wanted time with his sweet puppy.  Garth dropped them off and watched them go inside before heading back to the Frisco house. 

As Dean gradually opens the front door he examines every reaction from his sweet boy. He is also pretty impressed by the stunning transformation of the living room.  There is an eight-foot Christmas tree, completely adorned with silver and white decorations, with a hand painted angel on top.  The floor below the tree is brimming with presents.  Tinsel and green is spread throughout the room, leaving the entire house smelling of pine.

“Oh my God Dean, how in the world did you accomplish this?” His Sammy is spinning in circles trying to take everything in.

The master grins with adoration at his love, “Did you honestly think that I would let a little bullet take away from our first Christmas together.”

Dean carefully removes his jacket as he ambles over to the couch, leaning all the way in so the back helps to prop his shoulder. “Climb on my lap Sammy.”

The gentle giant squints, eyeing Dean suspiciously, “I know for a fact we have not been cleared for that, Dean.”

He takes in a deep sigh rolling his eyes, “Sam, I am a grown ass man who wants some affection from his fiancé. I think we can both control ourselves.  Now come here cause I can’t get up without help.”

Sam swiftly removes everything from the waste up and then gingerly helps Dean with his shirt too. “Okay, maybe some kissing and stuff.  I have missed you.”

His lovely boy carefully attempts to straddle Dean’s lap. With a very timid approach, he leans in, placing his lips on Dean’s, their mouths opening to allow their tongues to dance.  Sam cups his master’s face with his hands scratching at the scruff with his nails.  The kiss becomes deeper as their desires build, leaving them panting between swipes of the tongue, their chests rubbing against each other as Sam grinds into Dean’s crotch, making his dick hard and needy.

He breaks the kiss to whisper into Sam’s ear. “Sam, you are so beautiful.  I think we can make this work, help me with my pants.”

Sam leans back, astonishment on his face, “Dean Smith, I am not having sex with you, but I will alleviate the pressure.”

Dean flashes a wicked smirk as Sam attempts to pull out his stiff cock being as gentle as possible. Dean whines, “Just take off my pants Sam, that will be so much easier.”

The sweet boys face is flustered as he shimmies Dean’s pants and boxer-briefs over his hips and off. He then flings them to the other end of the couch when a small box goes flying out of the pocket. “What the hell was that Dean?”

A look of pure innocence and surprise fills the master’s face, “I don’t know, you better check it out.”

He watches his Sammy pick up the shiny black ring box with a single silk bow. The entire world stands still for Dean as he gazes at his sweet boy opening his first gift of the day, those gorgeous hazel-brown eyes lighting up with excitement as he peers into the little gift.  “Dean, Oh My God it’s stunning.”

Sam removes a platinum ring with two diamonds in the band, and a little pink one to the side. “Well maybe now you will finally take off that collar.”

His gentle giant’s hands fly up to the leather choker that has never left his neck since that fateful night. “I’m not ready yet.”

The master’s voice becomes sultry and commanding, “Sammy, I want you naked and on my lap with the box.”

 Dean can see the battle in Sam’s eyes as he recounts the doctor’s order against his yearning to please his master.  The puppy in him wins out as he strips down, and again tentatively climbs onto Dean perching on his thighs.  He takes the ring from Sam, tossing the box to the floor below.  He then puts it on Sam’s left ring finger.  “Now it’s official and we have a ring to show off.”

Sam gawks at the new jewelry, completely full of joy. Without warning, Dean reaches up with his good hand and removes the collar.  There is a disappointed grunt from Sam, but Dean responds, “Sam, it’s covered in blood and needs to be cleaned badly.  Look at me.”

His sweet boy’s eyes lift to meet his, “Please, Dean.”

Dean taps his lips with his finger, and Sam obeys by kissing Dean chastely. Dean tenderly grasps his Sammy’s cock giving it a few good tugs.  The gentle giant moans and rocks his hips into Dean’s palm.  Then his lovely boy winks as he gets up and saunters out of the room.  “Sam, come on we have like over an hour until anybody gets here.  We can take it easy I promise, but …”

He doesn’t even finish his sentence as Sam strolls back into the room with a bottle of lube in his hand. “Okay Dean, I think you on the floor will be the safest.”

The two men carefully move Dean, so he is lying flat on his back, his elbow resting on a pillow. Dean suddenly feels completely helpless as Sam pours the solution over his fingers.  He turns on his knees bending over, so Dean can observe him thrusting his digits into his own hole.  God, he just wants to touch him, to feel that luscious skin on his fingers.  Despite the lacking of contact, his dick is hard and leaking with pre-come when Sam is done with the show.  The towering man straddles Dean once more as he slides his ass over Dean’s bare dick.  The master bites his lip, groaning from pleasure at the physical connection between the two men.  Sam gradually rocks his hips up and down on Dean’s shaft as he picks up speed with each plummeting movement.  Reaching out with his healthy arm, Dean seizes Sam’s cock and strokes it in rhythm with Sam’s hips. 

In a low, rumbling voice, Sam bellows, “God, Dean, I love you.”

 Then he tilts forward, kissing his master while continuing to ride his cock.  Both men don’t need long until they are screaming with gratification as they climax as one.  Sam scoots to the side using his shirt to clean up the cum before placing his head on Dean’s abs while the master pets his lovely dark hair whispering, “Good boy, my sweet boy, my Sammy.  I love you. Merry Christmas.”

Sam swivels so he is facing Dean, his cheek still resting on his stomach. The smile on his puppy’s face warms his heart threefold.  This man is Dean’s home.  “Don’t worry, my gorgeous boy, I will keep us all safe.”

The gentle giant creeps up Dean’s body, hovering above him, his eyes are dark with want, “This time, Dean, we hunt together, do you understand?”

The master smiles, and pulling those pouty pink lips to him, he kisses Sam, taking in his taste and smell before releasing his neck, “Together.”


	31. Chapter 31

Dean despises being treated like a baby. He especially loathes it from people he just met.  Yet, here he stands in the penthouse master bath, being undressed by one hell of a bossy nurse.  She clearly is a dominant wench because she shooed Sam off with superb skills.  Currently, she is removing all his clothes while the water runs, filling the oversized marble tub.

The master sighs, humiliated at the situation, “You know Sam is perfectly capable of giving me a bath.”

Her eyes shoot lasers at him, making him jerk his head away, “I am not stupid Dean. You and your little Sammy had sex against doctor’s orders.”

She huffs and scoffs as she violently removes his boxer-briefs. “Hey, that’s a sensitive area.  Sam would be gentle.”

She crumples his clothes tossing them into the hamper, “Oh, I am sure he would before he climbs into the tub with you and rides your cock like a true Texan cowboy.”

Dean has to smirk because the idea crossed his mind. “What’s the big deal?  We had sex this morning, and look Mom, everything is rainbows and unicorns.”

 Nurse Masters, or Meg, is leaning over turning off the flow of water, but he can actually hear her eyes rolling to the back of her head.  She is a very petite, beautiful woman, and Dean is finding her a little intimidating as she rises to meet his glare.  “You could do damage to the muscle, which would not show for months.  Yes, you are no longer in danger of popping a stitch, but if you want full mobility, you had better behave!  Now get in the tub.”

He hastily follows her directive easing into the hot water. “My bandages are getting wet.”

“Jesus, you are worse than an infant. I am going to remove the old gauze, wash your entire body, and then once you are dry, re-wrap the wound.  Is that alright with you, Master?”

She asks the last question with her eyebrow cocked and a teasing smile on her lips. Damn, she is fully aware about his lifestyle, and yet seems perfectly at home bossing him around.  “Fine, and you can address me as Mr. Smith.”

Her grin increases as she takes a cloth to scrub his skin. “Sure thing, Deano.”

Dean can barely remember the last time someone has spoken to him in this manner. “You will show me respect in my home, or I will hire someone new.”

The threat is very commanding and Dean swells with pride. Nurse Masters just shrugs nonchalantly, “I don’t work for you.  If you want to boss the world around, that’s fine, but when it comes to your health, that’s my domain.  Do you understand?”

She scrubs his scrotum a little too roughly, making Dean flinch. He responds through gritted teeth, “Yes.”

Meg pauses from the assault on his junk to start glaring into his soul, “I’m sorry, yes what?”

Dean swallows, his eyes darting to the side, “Yes, Mam.”

He stays quiet until she puts the shampoo in his hair. Suddenly she is massaging his scalp so amazingly he starts to purr.  Her fingers are releasing all his tension and the effects are glorious.  “So what’s the plan of attack?”

Dean is lost in waves of pleasure when her question pulls him back to reality. “Attack of what?  You?”

She cackles taking a large cup of water, dousing his hair to rinse it clean. “I have been living with you in that little house for like a week.  I will now be living with you and Sam here.  What’s the plan Stan?”

 Another dump of water blurs his first response which was full of curses.  He coughs a little, clearing his lungs before, “What do you mean you are living with us?”

Meg gingerly washes the injured shoulder. Dean hisses a little, but she is actually being very meticulous with the red marked skin.  “Your Dad hired me as a live-in, fulltime nurse for you and the jolly green giant.”

This catches Dean’s attention, “Why does Sam need a nurse?”

Meg leans back on her heels. Her face has lost that playful touch, and the vibe in the room has gone serious quick.  “Sam has injuries, Dean, just not ones you can see.”

His eyes lock onto hers because now, the shit just got real, “Explain in detail, now.”

She bites her lip while she clearly thinks over her options. “He has been having extremely violent nightmares.  His psychiatrist has been visiting daily; she prescribed some meds for him.  I dole out his pills, and also make sure he is eating.”

“How long has Sam been seeing a psychiatrist?”

Meg starts scrubbing down his legs, “Since he moved to Dallas from what I can gather. This is a good thing Dean.”

Dean tilts forward his eyes are desperate, “And what do you mean eating?”

“The first few days of your sedation were the hardest for Sam. I have never seen a person so lost.  It took a while before I noticed that he only ate when someone directed him to eat.  That’s when Dr. Moseley was brought in and there seems to be an improvement.”

“Is this Dr. Moseley any good?”

A kindness pours from Meg as she pats Dean’s hand, “Dr. Missouri Moseley is one of the best in Texas. Okay cutie, time to get out.”

Nurse Masters helps Dean out of the tub, and towels him off. “You know, I could probably do this myself.”

The snarky attitude has returned in her voice, “You can barely raise your arm, how are you going to dry your hair? Now quit being so stupid and stand there while I finish.  Then I need to get Sam’s juice, and your nightly shot.” 

 “What?”

She halts her movement to lock eyes with his, “I put sleeping pills in Sam’s evening juice, and you need a pain med shot to rest. Look Dean, I know there is a plan forming, I just want to be in on it.”

Dean is surprised an in home nurse wants to hunt down Ruby and her cohorts. He glances at her bewildered, “Who are you?”

Meg snickers to herself as she grabs a brush for his hair. “I was a special ops navy nurse for several years to pay for college.  Three tours and I assume you know what that means.”

The master shakes his head yes, allowing Meg to dress him in boxers and sweatpants. “You are very useful.”


	32. Chapter 32

The next morning, the haze of painkillers is wearing off as Dean cracks an eye open. He is met with the most beautiful smile in the world, attached to hazel-brown eyes.  He coughs a few times before finding a gruff morning voice, “Hey Sunshine, how did you sleep?”

The master has his breath taken away as Sam kisses him long and deep. “I slept really well.  It was nice to finally be home in our bed.”

Dean goes to sit up, and winces as the muscles in his shoulder yelp at him. Sam jumps to action, helping his loving master up to lean against the headboard.  “Well, our home for a few more weeks, and then off to the new house.”

A halfhearted smile fills his sweet boy’s face, “Should we move in with all this stuff going on?”

He pats Sam on the hand, “I’m working on a plan, Sammy boy, so no worries.”

His gentle giant lifts his body, straddling Dean in the process, littering his neck, mouth, and cheeks with kisses. He finds it amusing that Sam feels comfortable enough with Meg in the house to sleep in the nude. Then he stops, letting his gaze sear into Dean’s eyes, “What is our next move?”

Dean falters for a second as he weighs the pros and cons of keeping Sam in the loop, but in the end, he knows this will be a family affair. “We schedule the move for the end of January.  Book movers, turn on utilities, make a huge fuss about the date.  I think they will use the month to plan something.  Ruby and her buddies will see it as an excellent time to attack when our lives are in disarray.  However, on the 14th we are going to simply disappear, and that’s when the game turns in our favor.”

Sammy tilts his head in allowing their noses to caress as he asks, “How will that be in our favor?”

The master snatches a kiss from his lover, “The best defense will always be a strategically played offense. Garth has been tracking Ruby’s movements and she has never left Giddings.  The incident at the Rode House was done by three partners.  We have identified two of them as they slowly made their way back.  The last one is still in Dallas, and she’s really good at hiding.”

A faint look of fear plays on Sam’s face, “Who are the two?”

“A male who goes by Azazel and a female named April Kelly. Do you know them?”

Dean can tell by Sam’s reaction that he is fully aware of the two who are trying to destroy his family. “Yes, the Campbell’s have transported items for them in the past.  They both have worked for Lilith in one way or another.”

The master nods his head, lifting his good arm so he can cup his sweet boy’s face. “Sam, I need you to be honest with me.  I love you.  I will marry you no matter what, but I need some answers that only you can provide.  But, if it gets to hard, or you just can’t do it, I want you to safe word out.  Do you understand?”

A very timid nod causes Sam’s luscious locks to bounce slightly. “Yes.”

His hand still holding his puppy’s face, Dean glares deep into the hazel-brown sea. “What’s the safe word, Sammy?”

The response is quiet, “Lawrence.”

Dean places his mouth on Sam’s, penetrating the sweet boy’s mouth with his own tongue, letting it drag over Sam’s in a deliciously lengthy smooch. When Dean breaks the kiss he places his forehead on Sammy’s, giving the giant a moment to calm.

“What happened between you and Lilith?”

There is no fear in his dear boy. It’s like a wave of tranquility flows over Dean’s lover.  Sam is free to tell his story safe in his master’s arms.

Sam’s breath is steady and strong, his voice never wavers. “I have known Azazel and Lilith almost my entire life.  Like I said, the Campbell’s have been running their merchandise for decades.  I went to school with Ruby and April in Giddings.  I know these people, the monsters who are hunting us.  When I was a senior in High School I decided I wanted a better life.  I applied to several colleges and got into UT Austin.  Samuel said I could go, but he would never pay for it.  Since Samuel has never submitted a tax return ever, I couldn’t exactly fill out scholarship or loan paperwork.   In the end, my grandfather said I should ask Lilith for new ways to make money.  I will never know whether he had any idea of what she would ask, but I followed his advice.”

When Sam took a drawn out pause, Dean didn’t move, he just let Sam find his words before continuing.

“Her first requests were for sex with her. I always refused because being with a girl just wasn’t something I was willing to do.  She was angry, but it seemed to pass because she found men who needed a certain type of submissive.  I ended up with about four or five regulars, and to be honest they were good guys with unique fetishes.  I enjoyed it.  It was so freeing to just let them take charge, and again, these guys were just your average males who needed a playmate.  After my sophomore year of college, one of my better paying clients moved to Oregon.  I went to Lilith asking for her to hook me up with someone new.  All the other introductions through her had been great, so I didn’t think about it.  That’s when she matched me with Alistair.”

Dean inhales so sharply at the name it causes Sam to halt the story. “Sorry, go on please.”

The please is soft making Sammy grin. “He is not a nice man.  Alistair has no interest in following rules, or even establishing a safe word.  A self-righteous sadistic bastard is what he is, and I had no idea until it was too late.  He would have me drink a Gatorade before each session.  Seemed harmless enough, but when we were done, the next morning I could never remember what happened.  I had bruises, was horribly sore, but nothing too bad, and he paid triple.  One day in my senior year, he asked me to meet him at a barn just on the outskirts of town.”

The mention of the barn sparks memories of his last visit to Giddings. “Do you mean The Barn?”

Sam shakes his head yes before inhaling, blowing a puff of air out slowly. “Yes, it was the same barn.  I arrive and there’s no Gatorade, which was odd, but he says he wants to do some rope play.  I agree and he strings me up pretty similar to how you found me.  Once he is sure I can’t escape, he brings in one of those portable DVD players.  He forces me to watch hours of video all focused on me.  It’s not footage of me being beaten it’s of me torturing other men.” 

The puppy crumbles as the memories of his actions assault his mind. Sam’s voice is hushed with terror.  “At one point, I was covered in blood as I whipped a man, his screams and pleas for it to end the only sound.  The worst part was the smile on my face while I did it.”

Without warning, Sam dashes to the bathroom. Dean’s shoulder compels him, with pain, to move slowly.  He can hear the sound of his sweet boy vomiting into the toilet between fierce sobs.  By the time Dean reaches Sam, he is tucked in a tight ball, whimpering.  The master eases down to the floor, dragging his puppy’s head into his lap.  He begins stroking his hair.

Between the surges of weeping, Sam mumbles, “I am evil and unclean.”

Dean’s first thought is to thank God he shot that smarmy bastard in the head. Focusing on Sam, the master’s voice is strong and reassuring, “Sammy, sit up and look at me.”

His puppy complies but struggles to keep eye contact.

“Sammy he drugged you. My guess would be a mix of roofies and LSD.  This makes you completely susceptible to suggestion.  You cannot be held responsible for your actions.  You are not evil.  You are not unclean.  Now look at me and say it.”

Sam’s eyes drop to the floor, “Dean you didn’t see it.”

The master grasps Sam’s chin pulling their faces so their foreheads touch. His voice low and commanding, “Sam, how well do I know you?”

The change in tactic startles Sam as his eyes finally peer into Dean’s. “In this moment, you know everything about me Dean.”

“Exactly, and I love you. Still planning to marry you and soon we will have a daughter.  We are a team, and I do not believe you are evil or unclean.”

Dean leans in, kissing Sam’s nose. “Samuel John Wesson, you are beautiful.”

He returns peppering his cheeks with lip locked adoration.   “You are kind.”

The master nibbles on an ear lobe.   “You are full of love.”

At last he places his lips on Sam’s. “I am in awe of the person before me, and no one can convince me otherwise.  Do you believe me?”

The glow that erupts from his Sam is brighter than the sun as he kisses Dean. Then he pulls away smiling, “Yes, I do.”

Dean devours his lover’s mouth and realizes his sudden need to worship the sun. “Sammy, lay back for me.”

There is no discussion. His sweet boy just exhales as he gives himself to Dean. The master starts with Sam’s face as he dusts the cheeks and forehead with kisses.  Then he gingerly moves south, using only his good arm to work his way down his puppy’s neck and torso. “You are so beautiful, so kind, so loved.”

 When he sweeps past Sam’s abs his adorable lover breaks out in giggles.  Dean is aware of how much Sam needs this so he halts his decent, sprinkling more chaste kisses, causing an eruption of laughter from his fiancé.  In that moment, Dean gazes into the sun and he is washed in its rays.  The gray evaporates in the warmth of Sam’s sunbeams.  There are no more secrets, only trust; no more fear only love; no more darkness only light.

Dean lowers his mouth, having reached his true destination, when he hears a dark snarky voice from behind him.  “Seriously guys, do I have to sleep between you!”


	33. Chapter 33

It is extremely difficult to twirl a dance partner that towers over you, but Dean is doing the best he can with his mighty giant. The two men are parading through the penthouse celebrating that Dean has been cleared by the Doctor to return to work, and in three days after that, all physical activities.  Sam is giggling, lost in the spins, as the master smiles in adoration at the glorious sound.  Meg leans on the doorway to the kitchen her snarky grin in full affect, “You guys are the biggest dorks.”

“Don’t care Meg! I have been healed!”  Dean responds as Sam collapses on the couch gasping for air.  He immediately drops on top of his puppy with a grunt.

Dean doesn’t even have to look as he hears her deep exacerbated sigh. “Okay, well I have to fill a couple new scripts.  Cause Deano, no more heavy duty painkillers, just ibuprofen for you.  Be good boys, because you still have to wait 72 hours for sex.  Do you hear me?”

Sam and Dean chant in unison, “Yes, Nurse Meg!”

The two lovers listen as the door slams behind her before Dean is grabbing, Sam pulling his face in for a deep, desirous kiss. They are still panting when Sam breaks free, rising to his feet, “I think Meg left some Chinese in the fridge, you hungry?”

Dean winks, “Oh I’m hungry, but not for food.”

His puppy rolls his eyes heading to the kitchen, “Three days Dean, and if we do anything more than kiss she will know.”

He falls to the couch with a sad sigh. Sam is right; Meg has magical powers for sousing out lies and sexual activities.  Sam returns with a plate of food for both of them, turning on the TV.  The two men sit watching the news, eating in silence until Sam says in a hushed tone, “Does Meg have to leave?”

Dean’s a little taken back by the question because he hadn’t really thought about it. Now that he’s better, Dean can’t see a reason to keep her around but something in the way Sam asks has piqued his interest.  “Well, once things get back to normal, I can’t see a reason for her to stay.”

Anyone else would have missed the slight slump of the shoulders and pout in the lips but not Dean. “Oh okay.  Do we have to give her notice or something?”

He puts down his plate of food, turning to face his sweet boy. “Sam, do you need her?”

His lover returns the stare and calmly answers, “Nope, I’m good.”

Dean always felt there was more to their relationship. Not in a romantic way, but Sam was himself around her.  He let his guard down, but of course they could still hang out as friends.

*****

It took a while before Dean registered the screams next to him. His own nightmares were often full of shrieks and cries from that same throat; therefore, it took him a minute to wake up and acknowledge that Sam was tossing about next to him, yelling.  At the exact moment Dean opens his eyes to turn and comfort his sweet boy, he hears Meg next to their bed. 

“You’re okay Sam. Wake up sweetie.”  The thrashing stills as his puppy finds serenity in her voice.  The master tries to squelch the building jealousy coursing through his veins.  Instead he focuses on listening to the interaction between them.

“Meg!” Sam grasps her hands like they are the only thing that can keep him safe in the storms of his mind.

“Of course, cutie. I’m right here.  Do you want to sit with me on the couch?”

There is no response but Dean can feel the movement of the bed as Sam leaves him. Dean’s mind is racing with scenarios.  He knows in his soul that this is not romantic, but why is Meg the one he is turning too.  He’s lying right there as his sweet boy leaves him in the dark.

Ten minutes later, Dean can’t stand it any longer as he creeps out to the living room. The room is bathed in darkness; the only illumination is from the stream of light cascading from Meg’s bedroom off the kitchen.  It takes a few seconds while his eyes adjust, but then Dean spots the two bodies curled up together on the couch.  Meg is sitting up, her tiny arms supporting the weight of his gentle giant.  Sam is lying across her with his head on her breast.  She is stroking his back gingerly, meticulously missing the fresh scars as she whispers, “You are safe.  Dean loves you.  It was just a bad dream.  Everything is fine.”

Nurse Masters repeats this over and over in almost a quiet chant to his sweet boy. Then she sings softly almost like a lullaby, “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.  You make me happy when skies are grey.”

He notices as Sammy’s muscles relax and his eyes begin to droop. She is actually singing him to sleep like a small child.  Dean suddenly recalls his mother singing that exact song to him, and it hits him like a pile of rocks.  Meg is satisfying the one role that his master can never do.  She is giving him a mother.  Sam’s own mother died when he was six months old.  She may be the first woman to ever sing him a lullaby to push away the nightmares.  He notes how Sam has draped his massive arm across her petite body, pulling her closer, his ear listening to the beating of her heart.  Dean’s chest tightens as he becomes painfully aware how important Meg is to Sam. 

The stunning beauty of the scene before him brings Dean to tears. He slinks back to bed as he makes a silent promise to his Sammy.  Meg is now a permanent part of the family and she is going nowhere.

*****

The next morning, Dean is sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast when Meg strolls in for her morning coffee. He’s been working on an idea all night, and he’s hoping that she’s game.

In a nonchalant way while still forking some eggs, “Hey Meg, what do you think about babies?”

Nurse Masters turns with a cup of coffee in her hand. Her brow furrowed in confusion.  “I’ve never tried one, but I hear they are nice?  Are we having one for supper?”

Dean shakes his head, slightly disturbed by her response, “No. I was wondering if you wanted to stay on as Mary Jo’s baby nurse.  We have been warned that she could have some health issues after she is born.  I need someone I can trust with a medical background to care for her and help Sam.”

 She gave a slight nod when she heard Sam’s name mentioned.  She understood immediately the actual components of the job.  “Your Dad hired me for three months.  What were you thinking?”

The master takes his last bite, standing to face Meg. In a serious tone, “This would be a permanent position.  You would work for me, but I will respect your authority.”

A cocky grin spreads through her face like wildfire. “I think Hell just froze over.”

Dean tilts his head down so his lips are nearly touching her ear. “He needs you, so that means I need you.  Please.”

Her eyes dart towards the bedroom where Sam is in the shower. “Yes, to both jobs.”

He winks at Meg before heading to the bedroom to give his sweet boy a kiss goodbye.

 


	34. Chapter 34

The car screeches as Dean swerves tightly around a corner. Normally he would never drive the Aston Martin this haphazardly, but the need to get home overpowers his love for the vehicle.  Tonight, he and Sam finally get to go at it like sex-crazed teenagers.  The plan has been set for the last two days.  Meg has a room at the Crescent Hotel for the night, along with several spa treatments, and dinner at the swanky restaurant.  She has left a juice for Sam in the fridge with a little extra kick to help him sleep a little harder.  That along with some physical activities he should rest like a baby.

Dean pulls the car into the garage; almost missing his parking spot next to Sam’s other Christmas gift. The master climbs out of the Aston Martin, pausing as he taps the trunk of the other vehicle, “Hey Baby.”  He then sprints for the elevators, completely swept away in excitement.

 He rushes through the front door only to be smacked in the face with the appearance of the living room.  Dean shakes his head as he looks around.  All the blinds and curtains have been pulled tight darkening the penthouse.  The only illumination is from dozens of candles running through the front foyer and living room leading to their bedroom.  Red rose petals are littered throughout the room, following the line of candles.  A framed sign is highlighted with a flashlight which simply states, “Clothes Here.”

The master smiles as he follows the directions, placing everything on his body to the chair provided. He continues his search for a giant puppy when he enters the bedroom.  This room is even darker as the lit candles throw dancing shadows upon the walls.  The king size bed has crème silk sheets with several silk pillows tossed around the most stunning man in the center.  His Sammy is on hands and knees, wearing nothing but his clean collar and engagement ring.  Dean’s focus drifts across the items before him; lube, several of Dean’s ties, a red ball gag, and a platinum cock ring.

Dean is thrown a little by the toys. “Sam I’m not sure about this, maybe just vanilla.”

Sam swells his chest, his eyes are soft and pleading. “Dean please, for me.  I’m ready, I promise.”

The master is torn, but the trust between these two men to be completely honest wins out. He saunters forward and Sam relaxes as he sees his lover taking control of the scene.  “Sammy, tell me the safe word.”

His puppy lowers his head, bumping the ball gag with his nose, letting out a soft growl. Dean’s dick twinges with delight.  “Okay Sammy.  What do we do when you are gagged?”

Without a word Sam snaps his fingers twice. “That’s my good boy.”  Dean runs his fingers through Sam’s luscious locks, scratching behind his ears.  He continues petting his puppy with one hand, while he picks up the ball gag with the other.  He grips Sam’s face, forcing him to stare into his eyes.  “Are you sure?”

“Yes sir.”

Dean gingerly places the ball gag in Sam’s mouth, tightening the straps behind his head. “Lay on your back, spread out like an X sweet boy.”

Sammy hastily obeys. He is practically bouncing with joy.  Dean grins as he retrieves the ties from the bed counting four in total.  He takes each one, tying Sam to each corner, making sure the fabric is taught.  The master licks his lips as he plays several scenarios in his head.  “We have all night Sammy, so let’s take it slow, shall we?”

The gagged man nods his head, popping his hips upward for attention. “Oh I won’t be starting there.”  Instead, Dean creeps onto the bed, placing his lips on Sam’s left ankle.  He lowers himself between the wide spread appendages of his gentle giant.  Dean begins dusting kisses up Sam’s left calf, slowly taking his time.  Then once he is to the top of Sam’s thigh, he spies his lover’s cock, hard and leaking already.  However, he simply moves to the right thigh, kissing his way down the opposite leg.  After reaching the right ankle, Dean snickers to himself as he works his way back up, dragging his tongue making sure all of Sam’s skin is slick with his saliva before transferring to the left leg.

Sam is actually whimpering, his hips bucking harder with each swipe of Dean’s tongue. Finally, staying on all fours, Dean crawls up his puppy’s body until they are face to face.  The master leans down kissing his Sammy on the forehead, the nose, the chin, and down his neck.  When he passes the collarbone, Dean bites the flesh hard, drawing just a touch of blood.  He rumbles from his sternum, “MINE!”

Sam moans in response to the attention, pulling the restraints tighter and tighter. Moving down to Sam’s nipple, Dean flashes a wicked grin as he goes to work on the sensitive skin.  He takes one nipple into his mouth, suckling it hard for several minutes before switching to the other.  He repeats the pattern of affection several times before startling the puppy with a nip.  Sam lurches up in response to the onslaught of his pecs.   Taking a deep breath, Dean blows cool air over the damaged skin.  Goosebumps erupt over Sam’s skin as he shivers from the erotic sensation.  Dean stretches up to clutch a candle from the nightstand.  He glares at his puppy as he tracks the master’s movements with wild hazel-brown eyes.  Then Dean is tipping the candle, letting the hot white wax dribble onto Sam’s nipples.  The muffled howls from Sam are delightful and Dean is rock hard from the audio pleasures. He returns the candle to the safety of the nightstand as he grabs the bottle of lube. 

Sam’s whining becomes louder as he spots the bottle in his master’s hand. Dean squirts the solution onto his fingers before tossing the bottle to the side of Sam’s torso.  He kneels between his lover’s thighs taking his cock into his left hand, stroking it lovingly as he pushes a finger into Sam’s glorious hole.  His puppy’s hips thrust into his palm, slamming down on the penetrating finger.  Dean can barely make out all the groans of pleasure emanating from his Sammy.  Over the course of several tugs of his hand, Dean adds two more fingers, watching as Sam comes completely undone in his arms.

Dean stops as he frees Sam’s ankles allowing his hips the room to roll up, giving the master an excellent position. Rubbing a few more drops of lube on his own wanting dick, Dean dives into his sweet puppy, sloping his body upward so that he can penetrate deeper.  Tilting his head so his tongue can just grace over his puppy’s wax stained nipples, Dean strokes them seductively.  Sam’s eyes go feral with lust as he meets Dean’s hips in a rhythmic thrusting pattern. 

The master is astray as the connection to his puppy is overwhelming. He can’t kiss his sweet boy on the mouth, so he gazes into those hazel-brown beauties.  With each plunge of his body into Sam, he feels the waves of desire building.  This man is his forever.  He will never need another. Dean takes his left hand, resting it on the tattoo covering his lover’s chest.  He closes his eyes allowing his breath to match the beating of Sam’s heart. The craving to place his mouth on Sam’s to taste his tongue overcomes him, and he rips the ball gag off berating his puppy’s mouth with his lips and tongue.  The taste is intoxicating as teeth and tongues battle.  The plummet of his hips match the swipes of his tongue sending the two men further into their sea of yearning.  Dean can feel the eminent onslaught of his orgasm, and he wants Sam to join so he reaches down, clutching his dick roughly.  A moment later the two men are screaming as one, their voices gruff with panting exhaustion.

Dean collapses onto Sam, the world swirling around him as the scent of Sam envelopes his soul. He takes the comforter, wrapping up his sweet boy like a burrito.  The master climbs on top of mount Sammy, peppering his face with kisses as he whispers, “Good boy, sweet boy, my Sammy.  I love you.”

They lay together lost in the touch of the other for what seems like forever. At last Dean sits up, acknowledging the late hour.  He puts Sam on his back so Dean can rub antibiotic ointment onto the bite and raw nipples.  There is only the occasional muffled sigh from his sweet boy.  Once he knows that all the play wounds have been cared for and Sam is rolled back up tight, he moves to the next important task.  “Sammy, are you hungry?”

His puppy doesn’t say anything, he just grunts a response from under the blankets. Dean smiles as he saunters to the kitchen, taking his time to blow out all the candles along the way.  He finds a lovely tray of cheese, fruit, and crackers in the fridge.  He snatches two bottles of water before returning to the bedroom.  Sam is sitting up against the headboard in the dark.  Dean puts the tray between them before turning on a lamp.

 “You know it’s the 8th right?” Sam spurts his mouth full of cracker.

Dean laughs, “Yes, I am aware of the date.”

“I guess I want to know how things are coming along?”

The master finishes his cheese, taking a sip of water. “The movers and utilities are all set for the 30th of this month.  I have Meg booked on a flight to Houston on the morning of the 14th, a baby nanny expo is happening the next day.  She will buy a cheap car once there and drive to Austin.  You and I will take your car and drive straight there.  We have an apartment rented in an alias twenty minutes east of Giddings.  It has two bedrooms, one for us and one for Meg, once she arrives.”

Sam tugs Dean down, curling up in his arms. “What about everyone else?”

Dean nods calculating all the details. “On the 13th, ,before anything is in motion, Cas will be moved to a high security compound in Chicago.  His sister Hannah lives there, so she will be able to keep an eye on him.  That afternoon, Garth, with a team of four, will drive Bobby, my mom, and Gwen.  They will take back roads and wind their way to North Dakota.  It should take them several days.”

Sam takes his fingers tracing Dean’s skin while he talks. The innocent touch is comforting, and the master relaxes into his lover’s connection.  “Dean, do we have to kill them?”

The words are quiet, almost absentmindedly, but Dean knows Sam better than that, “I honestly don’t know. I have three possible scenarios in play once we get down there; one allows them to live the other two, not so much.”

“This isn’t a laughing matter, Dean. Last time they didn’t give you a choice, but now we have the upper hand.”

Dean nuzzles his nose into Sam’s dark locks, inhaling before responding, “True. I promise to give them every opportunity to save their own lives, but I won’t risk you.  I will always put our family’s safety above the lives of others.  I’m sorry Sam, it’s just not in my DNA.”

The master holds his breath, listening to his own fears that this upsets Sam in some way. He shouldn’t have worried because his sweet boy’s response sets everything in motion, solidifying the plan.  “Never be sorry, Dean, it’s one of the many reasons I love you.”


	35. Chapter 35

Exhaustion is taking over as Dean fights to keep his eyes open. It took twice as long to get to Giddings.  They had to double back three times to make sure no one was tailing them.  The Impala drives like a dream, but it is after midnight and there is so much to get done.  Meg has checked in with her recently purchased burner phone.  She reached Houston with no problem, and will start her journey to Giddings tomorrow evening.  He rubs his emerald green eyes, desperately holding on to consciousness, taking another huge swig of black coffee.

The apartment they rented is barely adequate, but will suit their purposes just fine. Two small bedrooms and only one bath are off a tiny make-shift hallway from the great room.  The kitchen is one of those efficiency models that are more of a corner than a room unto itself.  The plus side is the one car garage is directly under them.  This allows the Impala to remain hidden from any prying eyes.  The walls are a dingy taupe with dark brown carpeting.  It was leased with furniture, but Dean is unsure of their history.  The main room has one couch and a depressing card table, along with a decade old dining room table, where Dean sits in one of the four matching chairs.  The bedrooms are tiny with a full size mattress on the floor next to a chest of drawers.  The walls back there are covered in deplorable, dated wallpaper, leaving Dean very happy he brought sheets from home along with fluffy towels.

 The smell of bacon and eggs wafts into Dean’s nostrils, making his empty stomach growl.  The master turns to take in the glorious view of his fiancé cooking at the 1970’s puke-green stove.  His sweet boy is bare from the waist up, only his lengthy legs covered by jeans.  Dean licks his lips, letting his eyes drag up the most stunning body he has ever witnessed.  His gaze falters for a moment as he reaches the scars, dark and painful.  Sam seems to have accepted the permanent marks, but they are a constant reminder of what can happen here in Giddings.  His lovely puppy releases a soft sigh, his shoulders rolling as those brawny muscles stretch, giving Dean many naughty thoughts.  Suddenly Dean is starving for something more appetizing then bacon and eggs.

The master saunters over to his sweet boy, ghosting his fingers over soft supple skin. Goosebumps trail behind his touch as Dean kisses the strong dominant shoulders.  Running his lips gradually down Sam’s spine, he hears a soft plea, “Dean, I’m going to burn the food.”

Dean rises, leaning his crotch into his lover as he turns off the burner, moving the skillet to a cold one. “Don’t care.”  The master uses his knee to knock Sam to the side so he is pinned against the counter.  “Hands on the linoleum.”

There are no more words as Sam obeys, placing his hands on the kitchen counter, causing him to bend over his head resting on the cabinets above them. Dean reaches around his sweet boy’s waist, undoing the button, and zipper on his jeans.  He drops to his knees yanking the pants with him, leaving that delicious ass spread and ready.  Cupping an ass cheek, Dean runs his tongue up and down Sam’s crack while simultaneously grasping puppy’s dick, tugging hard.  The moans from Sam are deep and feral, making Dean’s own cock rock hard.  The master is dipping his tongue into his beautiful boy’s hole when there is a knock at the door.  In unison the two men groan, “Shit.”

Dean checks his watch, “That fucker is early.”

He stands smacking Sam’s bare ass in the process. “Pull up your pants Sammy we have company.”

“Dean I’m going to need a minute.” He can practically feel Sam’s panting as he walks to the door.

Dean gives Sam a wink, “Go to our bedroom and take care of things. I got this.”

After Sam shuts the bedroom door, Dean throws open the front one with a smile. “Ranger Henriksen, How’s tricks?”

The deathly serious African American man enters the apartment, his eyes casing the place. “Dean Smith, I don’t do tricks but I am curious as to why you have dragged me to this crap hole of Texas.”

Dean gestures to the dining room table where he notices there are several stripped weapons strewn about, “Do you want some coffee?”

“Fuck that it’s the middle of the night. I assume there is a purpose to my visit.  Your Mom was very vague on the phone.  Just said she was calling in a favor, so here I am pretty boy.”

The two men sit down at the table, just as Sam emerges from the back room. “Sam.  I would like you to meet Texas Ranger Victor Henriksen.  He’s going to help us send our attackers to jail swiftly and easily.”

Sam shakes the Ranger’s hand before turning to salvage the bacon and eggs on the stove. “Ok Dean, I am tired and want to know why I’m here.”  The ranger nods his head, pulling out his iPhone to take notes.  “It’s fucking late, and your shit-hole apartment smells like ass, so let’s get to work.”

Dean cracks a mega watt smile as Sam chokes on the water he was sipping, spurting it all over the faded linoleum floor. “You okay back there Sammy.  I think the apartment smells like your lovely, dark musk.”

Sam finally can breathe again as he retorts, “Shut your mouth, Dean.”

Ranger Henriksen is confused by the exchange as Dean smiles, “Oh my mouth has been pretty full lately.” Dean turns his attention back to their guest.  “Are the rangers still having a problem locating the crew running cocaine through Austin?’

This catches Henriksen’s attention as he bows his head towards Dean. “Yes.  In fact the rangers would be extremely grateful for any information leading to their detection and capture.”

A wicked grin spills over the master’s face. He loves when a plan come together.  “Well, I think if you are willing to help me acquire certain resources, then we might be able to help you with a promotion.”

The ranger is now extremely interested as he spends the next two hours eating burnt bacon and eggs while Dean runs through the greatest scene of his life. Sam is quiet, but Dean can tell he is taking every word in and filing it away for later.  It will take two days for Henriksen to pull everything together, but when he finally leaves, all three men are smiling.

****

The crappy blinds on the bedroom window just barely keep the sun from shining directly on him. Dean’s eyes flutter open as he realizes that he has draped his entire body over his sleeping giant.  Sam slept through the night without incident, and Dean is thankful.  The walls are paper thin, and the last thing he needs is a nosy neighbor calling the cops when they hear screaming in the middle of the night.  He has to relieve his bladder, but the second he lifts off Sammy the man will wake.  At first Dean was concerned the small bed would be a problem, but it seems they don’t even need all the space it offers.

Glancing at his watch, it reads 9:30am, which isn’t that bad since they were asleep around three. Finally, he relents his hopes of letting Sam rest longer for his desire to pee.  Dean is standing in front of the only toilet when Sam strolls into the bathroom, rubbing the scruff on his face.  “What’s on the agenda for today?”

They switch spots so Sam can use the toilet and Dean can wash his hands. “Not much; we are in a holding pattern until Meg gets here tonight.  I’ve got the laptop set up in the living room; do you want to download some movies?”

“Actually, can we talk about something fun?”

Dean squints at his giant slightly confused by the idea that anything lately is fun. “Sure what’s on your mind?”

The master is caught off guard as Sam slams him against the wall, kissing him hard. Dean releases into the kiss, letting his mouth follow Sam’s lead, their tongues lost in desirous sensations.  When the kiss breaks, Sam runs his hands through Dean’s hair, “Wedding plans.”

“Son of a Bitch, Sam ,you kiss me like that and now you want to talk about our wedding. Uncool; so uncool!”

Sam is cackling as he leaves the bathroom, heading to the kitchen to start the coffee. “Seriously though, we don’t even have a date or place.  We have all morning and a perfectly working laptop.”  Then Sam pulls out the big guns as he drops his eyes, blinking those long lovely lashes.  “Please, Dean.”

The battle was lost before it even started as Dean is lost in dark hazel-brown eyes. “Alright Sam, when would you like to get married?”

There isn’t even a pause in his response which makes Dean think Sam has been working this out for a while. “The last Saturday in June.”

It’s not a bad date but Dean is curious as he makes some toast. “Enlighten me Sammy.  Why that day?”

“So get this we both know that Mary Jo’s due date is May 2, but she is definitely going to be early. This will give us around a couple months to get her healthy before we have to leave her for the honeymoon, and well, I want our daughter to be in the wedding too.”

The glimmer in Sam’s eyes as he spoke was all Dean needed, save one slight problem. “What do you mean leave her for the honeymoon?”

Sam is turning on the computer, surprised by Dean’s question, “Umm, Mary Jo will stay at home in Dallas with Meg and your Mom so we can go to Grand Cayman for our Honeymoon.”

Immediately Dean scoots up to Sam on the couch, his eyes the size of saucers, “No. We are all going on the trip.”

“Dean you can’t take an infant to the Caribbean. Airports are crawling with germs.  Mary Jo will need to stay home near her doctors.”

For the first time in their relationship, Dean actually begins pouting. “So we don’t go to the Caribbean on a plane, and we hire a doctor to go with us.”

His dear puppy is searching possible wedding locations in Dallas as his face scrunches a deep sigh escaping his lips, “What are you going to do, rent a yacht and hire a full team of medical personnel to go with us?”

Dean remains silent trying to hide the fact that, indeed that’s exactly what he was planning. It’s when Sam stops searching and turns, catching his guilty eyes that his puppy bursts out laughing, “Dean Smith, that’s exactly what you want to do.”

“So, why should Mary Jo get to miss out on the trip?” The pout on his face still evident.

“Cause she will be around three months old and won’t even remember it AT ALL DEAN!”

Dean’s face is still as he stares into his fiancé’s eyes. “I don’t care, Sam.  Mary Jo’s life is going to be hard from day one.  She will be born suffering painful withdrawal symptoms, and a load of other health issues.  Have you seen the list of problems that can arise throughout her life?  I’m her Dad.  It’s my job to make sure that she never gets left behind because the world tells her no.  I don’t care what it costs, she will have every advantage Sam.  We are a family, and I will keep you both safe.”  Tears are falling from the master’s eyes leaving his nose red and his cheeks stained wet.  “You and Mary Jo are my sun and moon.  I will never leave you behind.”

Acceptance washes over Sam as he takes his stress filled master into his arms. Dean is suddenly astray in the warm embrace of his lover.  This is how he becomes completely undone and wailing, his face resting on the anti-possession tattoo.  Dean relents to his emotional onslaught.  He knows he must give in and let it go, leaving him ready for the task ahead.  Sam enwraps his Dean in powerful arms stroking his hair while whispering, “Everyone is safe.  It’s okay Dean let it go.  I love you.”

 


	36. Chapter 36

Five days later, Sam is sitting on that same couch in the rented apartment when Meg skips out of her room wearing the slinkiest yellow dress. Her hair is down, with soft curls surrounding her face, make-up is done perfectly, even with little wings off her eyes in black eyeliner.  She has a pair of six inch black stiletto heels in her hand.  She is shaking her breasts for which Sam can’t figure out why, other than to show off her over exposed cleavage.  “What do you think, Sam?”

The gentle giant doesn’t know what to say. He prefers Meg in blue scrubs and a pony tail but that would not fit her role for the mission.  “Um, you look lovely.”

Nurse Masters rolls her eyes with a huff. “Are you serious?  This dress is nearly nonexistent and this bra has my tits busting out, and all you can say is lovely?”

Just in the nick of time, Dean comes in from an errand, taking a second to assess Meg’s appearance. “What do you think, Dean?”

“Nice rack. Almost makes me think about changing teams.”  He winks at Sam so he knows he’s just joshing them, and shuts the front door.

“See Sam, that’s how you make a lady feel wanted.” She sits on a dining room chair to strap on her killer shoes.

“I just finalized everything with Henriksen, and it’s a go on their side. So Meg, how are you feeling?  Ready to jump into the escort business.”

Sam has no idea what to do here. He is torn between his desire to see these horrendous people in jail and the need to keep Dean and Meg safe.  These two people are his life rafts; there is no way he could make it without them.  “Guys, are we sure about this plan?  There are some huge gaping holes?”

He wasn’t aware he was shaking until Meg took his hand into hers. “The plan is solid, sweetie.  Do you have your stuff together?”

Sam nods his head yes as he pulls his gun, one of the Nickel Taurus numbers Dean has from his waistband. “Garth cleared me on it a week ago, so now I’m ready to come in with a blaze of glory.”

“See, I have my knight in flannel what could go wrong.”

The giant just shrugs his shoulders because one thing that life has taught him. If something can go wrong, it definitely will if he’s involved.”

****

Sam tucks himself into a tight ball on the passenger side of the Impala. He doesn’t have the stomach for this but it’s too late for him to back out now.  The gentle giant tosses a glance at Dean, who is also laying very low, only allowing his eyes to peer over the hood of the car with binoculars.  They parked an hour ago, waiting for Meg to walk in with the bag of money.

“How can you be sure they are all going to touch the bag?” Sam doesn’t quite see how all the pieces fall together just yet.

“Meg is going to saunter in there as a hooker for the Azazel dude. Once she’s in, she’ll drop the bag and tell them about how this is payment from me to stay away from our family.  There is no way in hell that they won’t all come running and want to count it for themselves.  These are money hungry assholes.  Once we know all four have arrived and Meg has seen them touch the money, then we call Henriksen and it’s all over.  Easy peasy, no one gets hurt.”

He wants to believe in the plan and Dean’s ability to read people, but the pit in his stomach just seems to be getting worse. Sam snuggles down as best he can, closing his eyes waiting for all hell to break loose.  “Wake me if something happens.”

Three hours later there is still nothing from Meg and even Dean is starting to fidget. They both become completely unglued when there is a rap tap on the back window.  A tall, red headed female with a truly nasty grin yells, “Out of the car boys or I will shoot you.”

Sam’s eyes slide to her hands, holding an old school colt revolver. Dean is cursing incessantly as the two men uncurl their bodies, slinking out of the car.  “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m the one who’s been watching you since Dallas. The name is Abbadon, but most people call me Abby.  Inside boys; time to die along with your whore.”

Both Dean and Sam flinch at the mention of Meg. Sam’s body is shaking so badly his teeth hurt, but he takes a deep breath trying to calm his nerves.  They walk in front as Abby brings up the rear, talking the entire way, “You know, Meg was a good choice.  She never broke once, but then I had the genius idea of walking the perimeter, and what do I stumble across but a black Impala.”

The building is an old farmhouse from the 20’s. At some point in its long life there was white paint with green trim but it’s almost completely peeled away over the years.  The wind picks up making the tattered-with-age windows rattle.  Dean goes through the front door first, followed by Sam.  Quickly, the terrified puppy scans the room looking for Meg.  He discovers her strapped to a weathered kitchen chair.  Her mouth has been muzzled so they wouldn’t hear her screams as they clearly beat the shit out of her.  All that beautiful, silky, pale skin is splashed with purple bruises and red bleeding cuts.  Her body hangs limp in the chair, supported by the rope that restrains her. 

Sam glares at his nurse, praying for her to be alive. He just needs to see her take a breath.  “Please Meg, inhale.”  He whispers quietly hoping to convince himself she can hear him.  However, God himself must have heard his prayer because at that moment Meg lifts her beaten and bleeding face to wink at Sam.  The giant actually finds himself smiling at her. 

They are standing in the living room, which is empty save the chair Meg is on, and an old rotting butcher’s block. The black leather bag sits on top, open with the cash spilling out.  Ruby enters from a back room; her coffee brown eyes are bouncing with pride.  “You are all a bunch of fucking idiots.  Did you seriously think that you could pull one over on me?”

She has a long hunting blade in her hand as she tosses it from one to the other. The knife is dripping with a red sticky substance that also stains her green t-shirt and jeans.  Dean and Sam are standing in the center of the room with their hands up.  “Well sweetheart, I’m not one to brag but it seems we have been here before and I kicked your collective asses.”

Her movements were so swift neither Dean nor Sam had time to defend themselves. She steps forward, slicing the knife through Dean’s forearm.  He shrieks in pain, grasping the wound with his other hand.  “Was that necessary?”

Ruby tilts her eyebrow in a question, “Maybe, or not, but it was fun. You better start taking this shit seriously or I’m going to start killing more people.”

Sam suddenly finds his voice, which surprises everyone in the room, “Isn’t that the plan in general, eye for an eye?”

Abby laughs from behind him. “That was Azazel’s stupid idea, but since there seems to be a cash reward, Ruby and I outvoted his desire for revenge.”

Ruby puts the knife to her face resting the hilt on her cheek smudging it with the red oozy substance. “Poor Azazel and April.”

Dean cocks his head to the side with a grin, “The bastard never saw it coming.”

There is a skip in Ruby’s step as she crosses behind Dean. “Nope, he actually thought he was the leader cause God gave him a fucking dick.  A mistake he will never make again.”

Sam can tell that Dean is starting to get woozy from the blood loss because he barely jumps when Ruby grabs him from behind. She positions the bloody blade against Dean’s neck, using his body to hide hers.  “Hey Abby, how much do you think we can get for Mr. Moneybags here?”

The smirk on her face makes Sam’s stomach turn. Jesus she is a nasty piece of work.  “Look Ruby, he’s worth a whole lot more alive so why don’t you just let him go.”

A sinister cackle erupts from both women, filling the farmhouse with the eerie high-pitched sound. Abby responds to his request, “It only takes a finger for a ransom demand.”

Sam realizes that neither of these women have any intentions in letting his family go. They will torture and shred their bodies for fun, using the pieces as ransom to those left back in Dallas.  The thought makes the giant stand a little taller, his shoulders puffing up as he inhales deeply, prepping his mind for the next step.

The ladies notice his change in stance, but only Dean comprehends the side effects. Ruby actually giggles, “You okay there Sammy boy.  It looks like your about to have a panic attack.  I know you like this master, but I’m sure Abby can help you find new playmates.”

Dean grumbles, trying to stay conscious, “Seriously, could you not bring BDSM into this sadist fest. I’m just embarrassed for the both of you.”

“Shut up, Dean!” Ruby snarls as she digs the blade into the flesh at the base of his collarbone.  Dean howls in pain, trying to shove her off.  She tightens her grip on him, making the cut deeper; a trickle of oozy blood leaves the wound.  Dean’s eyes squeeze shut as he tries to deal with the pain. “Fucking bitch, get off me.”

Everything moved so fast, Sam will never be able to recall how it happened, but in the moment that Abby lowered her weapon to laugh at Dean’s screams, Sam retrieves the gun still nestled against his back. He does it like Garth trained him, as he exhales focusing on the two targets at hand.  First he pivots to fire at Abby, hitting her in the gut while kicking the gun from her hand.  When he swivels back to face Dean and Ruby, he watches as his master drops to the hardwoods, giving Sam a clean shot.  He shoots twice, sending her flying back to the wall with a grunt.  Her body slithers to the floor like a despised rodent.

Before either woman can collect their wits enough to retaliate, Sam calmly shoots them in the head for good measure. A trick he learned from his master.  Sam dashes to Dean, pulling his lover onto his own lap.  “Dean, are you okay?”

“I’m fine Sammy it’s not as bad as I let on, wanted to throw those morons off. Call Henriksen and get his team over here to clean up this mess.  But first, untie Meg. I think she is completely done with ropes for a while.”

A muffled wail erupts from the nurse in agreement.


	37. Chapter 37

Dean wakes with a start. His arm is aching and he really needs a Tylenol.  Dean’s hand stretches out on their bed finding only sheets.  His eyes are barely open as he squints at the alarm clock, God it’s after nine.    A dark, sultry, snarky voice speaks from the doorway, “Are you planning to grace us with your presence today, princess?”

“Fuck off, Meg! Some of us had to work all week.”  He rises to his feet, stretching as his joints pop in anger.

A soft cackle erupts from behind his back. “Some of us work seven days a week, Deano.”

He turns to face her noticing that she’s wearing a skirt and her make-up is done. “You read celeb magazines and follow Sam around all day.  Not really exhausting work there.”

“Shut up; you love me.” She’s rolling her eyes as she heads back into the hall and down the front winding staircase.  Dean follows her, curious about the change in attire.

“Hey Meg, what you got planned for today?” He is suddenly aware that the entire first floor of their new house is swimming in red floating balloons.  “What the hell?”

Meg snickers watching Dean’s confusion, “Um, its Valentine’s Day Romeo, and I have the day, off so my whereabouts are none of your concern.”

Dean shakes off his confusion as he reminds himself that he and Sam have plans at the Rode House tonight, but clearly, Sam has decorated the house. He notices her opening the front door, “Seriously though Meg, let someone know where you are okay?”

She waves goodbye calling over her shoulder, “Garth has been briefed.”

He waits until the door shuts behind her before searching for his special valentine. Dean has to knock balloons tethered to the ground with little red plastic hearts, out of his way.  He wanders to the oversized den that is attached to their open plan state of the art kitchen.  The back room is littered with more balloons, while red and white streamers hang from the walls.  He’s about to make a snide comment about the decorations when he spots Sam cooking at the stainless steel, triple burner stove.  His sweet boy is wearing a pair of red silk boxers and nothing else.  There are three sets of a dozen red roses on the long marble counter top.  “I thought we were celebrating tonight?”

 Sam flinches as he glances back at Dean.  “Good morning, handsome.  I was going to let you sleep a little longer and bring you breakfast in bed.”

“Meg woke me up. Hey, who is she dating?”  Dean just can’t let this one go, and he is pretty sure that Sam has the information.

His gentle giant turns around, slipping two heart shaped pancakes onto a plate. “Meg, dating?  Not our business Dean.  She has the day off and should be back around midnight.  You can interrogate her then.  Now I have pancakes for my valentine, have you seen him?”

Dean cracks a smile as he plays along. “Nope, but I would love to take his place.”

Sam saunters over to the six-person, cherry oak kitchen table, hand crafted in Pennsylvania. He sets up a nice breakfast spread, but it’s only for one person.  “Well I will take it, get over here, sexy, and eat, but I have two requests.”

The master squints his eyes, curious about his puppy’s declaration. “I’ll bite, what are these requests?”

His sweet boy wiggles his hips crossing to face Dean. “First, you have to eat naked.”  Dean likes where this is going, so he immediately drops his pajama pants, kicking them to the side.  “Second, we are going out to the cemetery.”

This catches Dean off guard as he is suddenly aware that Sam means visiting Ash. “Why?  This is not really a holiday for the dead.”

Sam cups Dean’s face with his hands, tugging his master’s chin in so close the puppy can kiss him. The moment is soft, and as their mouths open, Dean can feel himself exhaling as he leans deeper into his strong sweet boy.  There is no rush or aggression, it’s just swimming in love.  At last, Sam pulls his lips away, resting his forehead on Dean’s.  “You haven’t been out there in months.  Let’s take a set of roses, sit in the grass, and just be together in serenity.”

A broken sigh escapes Dean’s throat as he realizes how much he has missed his time with Ash. Sam knows this, and will not take no for an answer.  “Okay, but we should also take a set to Gwen?”

“That’s why there are three sets; Ash, Gwen, and Meg. I also had some sent to your Mom and Charlie this morning.  I think that covers it.”

Dean takes a second to run down the list, “Ellen?”

Sam cracks a grin, “A box of Cubans was delivered last night, to her house, from us. I thought that more appropriate.”

“That’s my baby. He thinks of everything except a place for you to eat.  I’m not going to have breakfast alone.”

The loving puppy winks as he guides his master to the chair. Sam positions the chair facing slightly to the side of the table.  “You sit and eat the pancakes; I’m having something else for breakfast.  Don’t move the chair.”

Dean plops down on the chair spreading his legs cause he knows exactly where this is going and how to make it better. Sam pulls a cushion out from under the table, placing it at Dean’s feet.  Then his sweet boy lowers his massive body to his knees before him, taking Dean’s cock into his hands, stroking.  “Eat, Dean, before it gets cold.”

It’s a little difficult to eat pancakes with the table to your side, but then he has an excellent idea. Sam continues to rub his dick as he takes the tip into his mouth, suckling it gingerly.  The pressure is light and although very arousing, is not designed for anything quick.  Reaching out, Dean seizes the maple syrup bottle, drizzling a little on his finger.  “Sammy I’ve got something for ya.”

His puppy pulls off his cock, and peers at Dean’s fingers as he rubs it all over the tip. “A little something sweet for my valentine.”  Sam returns to his master’s crotch, licking the tasty treat on his shaft.  Dean takes a few bites of pancakes, but it’s nearly impossible to do anything with that beautiful mouth rolling up and down his cock.  He places his clean fingers though Sam’s hair and griping his scalp, encouraging his sweet boy to pick up the pace.  Compliant as always, his gorgeous boy increases speed and pressure simultaneously while also tugging at Dean’s balls.  Dean leans back into the chair, closing his eyes as he feels the tingling pressure building in his stomach.  Dean whispers in a growl, “Teeth, Sam.”

Puppy obeys as he lifts his lips while releasing the pressure as he carefully drags his teeth up Dean’s cock. The sensation is overwhelming and the master cums hard, vibrating the orgasm through his entire body.

Once Dean regains his composure, he instructs Sammy, “On the floor. Face down.”

Sam immediately drops to the cold floor, his stomach chills on the slate. Bending over, Dean yanks the silky material from his beautiful body.  He takes the bottle of syrup pouring it all over Sam, head to toe.  He starts at Sam’s toes, licking each one clean with a meticulous focus.  Sammy giggles while the smile on his face shines like the sun.  Gradually, the master works his way up and down both legs.  Then he works on the delicious maple ass before him.  His sweet puppy is moaning through gritted teeth as he rocks his crotch into the floor, desperate for friction.  Dean spanks him hard, leaving a mark, “Not yet, Sammy.”

Dean follows the syrup path up Sam’s spine, licking and sucking the sweet nectar from the giants back. By the time he reaches those muscular, brawny shoulders Dean’s hard on is back and ready for round two.  Using some of the spilled cum from earlier, he moistens his fingers as he slides one inside Sam’s hole.  Sam cries out, “Jesus Dean!”

The master works slowly has he rolls one finger, and another, and another, working his sweet boy open for him. At last Dean tugs on those stunning hips, “Up on your knees, Sammy.”

Sam nearly leaps up, desperate to have Dean inside of him. The instant that his ass is in the air, Dean pours himself inside the warm wet hole.  They both release a deep grunt as Dean rides his puppy deep and hard.  Stretching his arm around Sam’s waist, Dean snatches his giant’s wanting dick, stoking it in rhythm with his thrusts.  Sam is hard, leaking pre-cum and he hisses, “Fuck Dean, harder!”

The master is happy to oblige as he quickens his pace and mirroring his fist with his hips. A few more minutes and both men become lost in their unifying climax.

The two men crumple to the floor, Dean still deep inside his puppy. He moves to roll off Sam when he yelps, “Don’t move, please Dean, just stay there a little longer.”

He lowers himself resting on Sam’s strong shoulders, both men panting. Without warning Sam is hit by two more aftershocks, causing his body to quake under Dean.  “Holy shit, Sam.”

Just then Dean’s phone begins to sing “Be My Baby”. Sammy turns to him with a questioning look as Dean pulls off his sweet boy, collecting the phone from the counter.  “It’s the obstetrician.”

Dean has laser point focus as he answers. “Dr. Gabriel how is Gwen?”

“Well hello to you to Dean. I was hoping you and Sam could come down to my office this afternoon for a quick discussion.”

Dean’s stomach drops because why in the hell would the OB want to talk to them. “Is there something wrong?”

Sam is suddenly right in Dean’s face, his puppy hazel-brown eyes whimpering with concern. “I just think a quick face to face chat is in order.  When can you be here?”

“One hour.”

“Okay see you then.”

The eyes boring into him are scared, and every bone in Dean’s body wants to reassure him, but he can’t. His own emerald green eyes are swimming in the same pool of concern.  “We need to shower and get dressed Sam.  We are meeting Dr. Gabriel in an hour.”

“Why, Dean?”

Dean tugs his sweet boy into his lap stroking his back. “I don’t know, but it could be anything.  So no getting stressed out till we know the facts, okay?”

Sam nods his head in agreement, but neither of them speaks a word the entire drive to the doctor’s office.


	38. Chapter 38

 The two men are sitting in the doctor’s sterile office.  Gabriel was called away to see a patient and promised to return any minute.  Dean scans the room, wondering how anyone could find it comforting.  The colors are different shades of crème.  The only color is in the mother and child painting directly behind his massive desk.  Dean is pretty sure it’s a reprint from Mary Cassatt, but it’s just a guess.  He knows the painting is actually very appropriate given that’s what the doctor literally does, but in a small way Dean feels mocked; that there is something less in not having a mother to hold you, but he’s sure Gwen will stay in Mary Jo’s life.  He is astray in thought about how to fill that hole in his daughter’s life when Dr. Gabriel blows into the room with a quick pace.  “Hiya boys.  I’m glad you could meet me, this being a holiday and all, but this is important.  Were you aware that Gwen was brought to Medical City Hospital last night?”

Both men sit straight up, perching on the end of their chairs. In unison they reply, “No.”

“I had a feeling she would try and keep it to herself. So I have privileges at Medical City and was able to examine her before they sent her home.  She and the baby are okay at the moment.  Take a breath.  Nothing is wrong, but I do have a few concerns.  Gwen seems bound and determined to give you a baby, but I am worried.”

Dean puts his hands on the edge of the desk. He wants answers faster than Gabriel is revealing them.  “Get to the point.”

“Gwen was admitted last night due to chest pains. She was given a full work up and unfortunately the first side effect of her drug use has reared its ugly head.  Basically her heart was severely damaged, and the strain of the pregnancy is making it worse.”

Dean glances at Sam and notices the building wetness in the corner of his eyes. The master takes his Sammy’s hand, squeezing tightly.  “So what does this mean?”

Dr. Gabriel takes a deep, cleansing breath before continuing. “I’m not going to sugar coat this, * for you boys.  In two days, Gwen will be 30 weeks along, which is a very gray area.  We can choose to deliver the baby then, but the survivability rate is much lower than if we try to push it to 34 weeks.  That is our golden number.  Your daughter’s lungs will be developed and it’s just a better outcome for the child.  We all know that she will be suffering from Neonatal Abstinence Syndrome at birth.  This can make matters much worse if her lungs are already underdeveloped.”

Dean nods his head along with the doctor. He had researched the syndrome when Gabriel first mentioned it months ago.  In normal people terms, its infant withdrawal, meaning his daughter will be born addicted to the Methadone.  Gwen has to take it so her own withdrawal symptoms from heroin don’t cause a miscarriage.  They can bring Mary Jo quickly off it in about 2 weeks after birth, but the process is painful for the baby; most common are poor feeding, low weight gain, irritability, and a constant high pitch cry. 

Sam’s shoulders are shaking as silent tears slip to his cheeks, “What about Gwen?”

“This is what I hate about my job. There may come a time when a choice must be made about whose life to put first.  The longer we wait to deliver, the better you daughter’s chances, but every day we wait, the strain of the pregnancy damages Gwen’s heart further.  This morning I called Gwen to discuss her options since I feel this needs to be her choice.  She wants to push forward until 34 weeks.  I have made her completely aware of the consequences, and she has told me that Mary Jo must always come first.”

The silence of Sam breaks as sobs erupt from his throat. Dean doesn’t care where they are, he pulls his puppy into his lap stroking his back, peppering his face with chaste kisses.  “What if she came to live with us?”

Gabriel makes no acknowledgement of the large man crying in Dean’s arms. “I think that would be a bad idea.  She needs space to heal and make decisions for herself.  I would suggest moving her to the maternity ward so she can be closely monitored.”

Dean’s strong voice commands. “Do it. The best private room available, and a personal nurse for her twenty-four hours a day.  I don’t care about cost do you understand.  Make the calls, we will go pick her up from the halfway house now.”

The doctor just tips his head in agreement before sweeping from the office to make arrangements. After Dean hears the door close behind Gabriel, he cups his hands over Sam’s chin, pulling that stunning face to his.  “Sammy, let it out now.  Take all the time you need, my sweet boy, but when we see Gwen, I need you to be strong for both of them.  Whatever she decides, we need to support her.  Dr. Gabriel was very clear, even if Mary Jo comes out sooner than later, she still has a fighting chance.  We will take her to the hospital and I promise she will have anything she needs.”

Sam takes several ragged breathes before he has a voice to speak, “Please, Dean. Tell me they both are going to be okay.”  Puppy kisses his master before whispering, “Please, Dean, make it better.”

This is Dean’s undoing as the master begins to weep. He wants so badly to reassure Sam that all will be fine, but he has promised his gentle giant that he will always be truthful; it is the backbone of their trust.  Dean cannot break that bond, no matter how painful, so he stares into those hazel-brown eyes, “I can’t.”

******

An hour later, Sam and Dean are putting a few last touches on Gwen’s new home for the next month, or so they hope. They brought all her pictures and personal items from the halfway house, trying to make the cold, drab, hospital room comfy.  Her nurse is situating Gwen in the bed, hooking her up to a million different monitors.  Finally she leaves, and Dean takes a seat on the loveseat in the corner of the oversized room.  Sam pulls a fluffy chair up to her bed, taking Gwen’s hand into his.  The master is proud of his puppy, from the moment they picked her up, Sam has been stoic and loving, without a single tear.  Even now, as he starts to speak, his voice is steady, “Gwen, I need to know that you are sure about pushing on for Mary Jo.  Dr. Gabriel has made it clear that she has a good chance of surviving if they deliver in 2 days.”

Gwen places her other hand over Sam’s. Dean suddenly notices the resemblance between the two siblings.  This beautiful, soft, loving look floods her face as she responds, “Sam, we both know that is crap.  Can she maybe survive?  Yes.  However, if I’m going to give her the best fighting chance, I need to let her get a little bigger.  I know what I am doing.  This is my choice.  I was a horrible sister growing up.  I should have protected you, but I didn’t.  Then it’s like our roles got switched because you began caring for me and never stopped.  This is my thank you, Sam.  Not taking care of you is my greatest regret, and now God has given me a chance to pay you back.”

Sam reaches out, cupping her face, and Gwen leans in to his soft touch. “You are my sister, not my mother.  You did the best you could, and you do not owe me anything.  I love you, Gwen.  I took care of you because you always loved me, even when the drugs stole you away.”  

“I’m not changing my mind, Sam. No matter what, Mary Jo comes first do you hear me?  Dr. Gabriel and the staff keep asking, but nothing will change.  She’s my daughter and I may not be the one to raise her or have the money to spoil her, but this I can do.”  Her face lifts as she glares at Dean, who’s quiet on the couch.  “Dean Smith, you make me a promise right now.  No matter what, you push my body as far as it can go to save your daughter.  Say it Dean.  Say you promise!”  She is almost yelling as she claws at Sam’s arm, pleading for Dean’s compliance.

Sam is trying to clutch her waving hands. “Gwen, do you know what you are saying?”

The mother to be stills and an eerie calmness floods the room as she continues to stare at Dean. “I am completely aware of the consequences Sam.  If we take Mary Jo out too soon, she dies, if we press it too far, I die.  Promise me, Dean, that we push as close to 34 weeks as possible, no matter what, for her.”  Gwen pets her swollen belly, forcing Dean to make a choice.

Dean stands and moves to the other side of the bed. He leans over, placing a timid kiss to the top of her head.  He finds Sammy’s hands, interlacing their fingers.  “I promise, Gwen.”

 


	39. Chapter 39

Dean slowly opens the front door to their new home, taking in Sam who stands just to his side. They had stopped off at a local diner on their way home for lunch.  His sweet boy barely touched his meal; he just sat there staring into oblivion.  He wants to fix this, make it all better, but he can’t.  They knew from the beginning that the outcome could be bad, but Sam always has a way of putting a positive spin on everything.  He is Dean’s ray of sunshine in his life of gray, but not today.  The clouds have settled and the sunbeams are lost in the sound of silence.

A red balloon drifts over, bumping into Sam’s thigh. On any other day it would be funny, but at this moment it’s almost heartbreaking.   His lovely puppy seizes the red balloon crushing it between his hands a loud pop echoing through the drab house.  “This fucking sucks!”  Dean doesn’t move as Sam screams grabbing one balloon after the other, crushing them between his oversized claws.  “This can’t be happening.  We deserve a happy ending, Damn it!!”  The scene has an almost comical aspect as Sam runs through the first floor destroying every balloon, screaming in disgust at the world.  Once the dark wood floors are littered with red rubber material, Dean finally moves, crossing to the back, and finds his puppy wailing in a ball on the couch.

The master takes his puppy’s hand, pulling him to his feet, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek as he guides him up the stairs. Sam just wanders behind him, not focusing on anything, just astray in his sorrow.  When they reach their bedroom, Sam strips down to his boxers before crawling into their bed, pulling the sheets over his head.  Dean strokes the lump of Sam, “Baby tell me what I can do to make it better.”

From under the blankets comes Sam’s response, “Call Dr. M, I am not having a good day.” The sigh that escapes the sheets rips a hole in Dean’s heart.

He immediately is tracking down Dr. Moseley, practically begging her to come to the house. “He needs you.”  The words destroy the master as they leave his lips.  He heads up to the bedroom to wait for Sam’s psychiatrist to arrive.

It’s not long before the doorbell rings. Dean dashes down the flight of stairs to retrieve Dr. M.  The African American woman blows through the door with a quickened pace, “Where is he?”

“Up the stairs, turn right, last door. What can I do?”

She pauses placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder, “Give us a couple hours. Why don’t you go visit a friend.”

Dean nods as he watches the good doctor climb the staircase. He rushes to the kitchen grabbing a dozen roses and heading to his car.  They left Gwen’s flowers in her hospital room but this will give Dean a chance to deliver the next set.

He ends up driving aimlessly through the city. It’s like Dean is avoiding the one place he set out to visit.  Finally, after almost an hour, the lost man parks near the cemetery.  Grabbing the roses from the back of the Aston Martin, Dean tightens the wool lined, dark navy coat around his chilled bones.  People are often surprised by how cold it can get in Dallas.  The wind picks up, biting at his exposed skin as Dean approaches Ash’s grave.

Dean lays the roses at the base of the marble tombstone. There is nothing left in Dean as he crumples to the wet grass, completely distraught.  He just releases all the tears as the master wails into the dirt, pulling the grass into his hands feeling the sting of the icy ground.  Dean has lost all track of time as he cracks open an eye to see that dusk is beginning its decent.  A voice in the back of his mind yells that he should go home, but Dean doesn’t have the energy to move.  The rise and fall of his breath is the only sound as Dean begins to fall asleep.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean’s eyes whip open as he jumps to his feet, completely taken back by the man standing before him in a kaki trench coat. “What are you doing here?”

The loving, pure blue eyes of his companion smile as the rest of his face follows, “A little birdie called me and said you needed a friend.”

“Are we friends, Castiel?”

The other man shrugs his shoulders, raising his hands in surrender. “I want to believe so.  You sent Meg to help me home from Chicago, and found me a place to live.  I think it’s my turn to help you.”

Dean drops to the ground once more, crossing his legs. “No one can help me, Cas.  Have you heard about Gwen?”

“I was informed about her health dilemma.”

Dean raises his eyes to peer at Castiel as he lowers himself to sit on the other side of the grave. “It’s more than a dilemma.  Sam and I are lost in a nightmare that we have no control over.”

Castiel takes Dean’s hand into his, squeezing it gingerly, “This is true, you have no control over who will live in the end. The cards have been dealt, Gwen has made her choice, now you just wait.”

The masters head slumps to his chest as his voice drops to a whisper, “I am useless.” A fresh set of tears wash over the dried ones on Dean’s cheek.  “All I could do was watch Ash die, and now this is almost worse.  She’s not even born yet and I have already failed her.”

With a tender touch, Cas wipes Dean’s cheeks, leaving his hands to stroke the younger man’s face. “Oh Dean, you didn’t fail either of them.  All of this pain and loss from Ash to Gwen to Mary Jo, that is nobody’s fault or failure.  My brave boy, that is the road of life we follow, the twist and turns with no road map to follow.  At times, we press on the gas to rush to the next turn, only to hit the brakes wishing we could throw the vehicle in reverse.  Dean, there is no life without death.”

A faint grin hits Dean’s strained face, “When did you get so philosophical.”

“I’ve had my own battles with death. It took discovering a reason to live to help me heal and turn off our road.”

Dean nods at Castiel’s words. He had been informed that after his stint in Chicago, he came home better and ready to live on his own with outpatient care.  It seemed that his friend had truly found happiness.  “So, what’s his name?”

Cas cackled at the question, the wrinkles next to his blue eyes deepening. “Another time and place Dean, but what about Sam?  You know how to help him.”

Dean searches Castiel’s face hoping for the answer. “No Cas, I don’t.”

Castiel tugs Dean into his arms, holding him in a tight embrace. “I remember a time when a man with emerald green eyes came to me, broken and lost.  He needed a special kind of release that gave his soul a break from the sorrow.”  Cas guides Dean’s face so their eyes lock in a powerful stare.  “Sam doesn’t desire a friend or a lover.  You know the answer Dean.  What does he require above everything else?”

There is a long pause as the answer flows from the fog in Dean’s mind. His entire demeanor changes as he raises to his feet, his shoulders strong, the gruffness of his voice commanding, “A master.”

 


	40. Chapter 40

The house is dark. The sun has set and no one inside has taken the time to flip some switches.  Parking his car in the driveway, Dean stumbles his way to the front door and inside.  At first he doesn’t see her sitting at the foot of the stairs.  Dean starts when he spots her out of the corner of his eye.  “Jesus, Meg!  I thought you were on a date.”

 He turns on the lamp in the foyer, and then he sees the mascara stains on her cheeks.  “Dr. Mosely called me right after you left.  Sam was having a fit and needed to be sedated.  She will be back tomorrow around 10am to finish their session.”

Dean knows better than to poke the beast but he has never seen the nurse so distraught. “Are you okay Meg?”

“It’s just so fucking wrong Dean. Sam’s life has been so hard, and finally after surviving through all that crap he gets the happy ending.  He deserves a fucking happy ending, Dean, and now Mother Nature is going to take it away.”

Dean sits down next to her and wraps the petite woman in his arms. “There is still a chance they will both survive, Meg.”

A fresh set of tears fall from her eyes as a tiny squeak escapes her lips. “I’m a medical professional, Dean.  This is not going to end well and you know it.  We can wrap it up in optimism for Sam, but let’s at least be honest with each other.  Sam just watched his sister give up her life for Mary Jo.”

There is no response to Meg’s statement. She is right and he knows it just as much as she does.  Everyday his daughter will grow stronger, and Gwen will grow weaker until her heart gives up.  “Is he sleeping?”

Meg pulls away, standing, “I only gave him a little to take the edge off. He was determined to be awake and functional for when you got home.  I think he feels guilty for asking you to leave.  I’m going to my room to make a phone call.  Come get me if he needs anything, okay?”

“Do you think he’s ready for the basement?” Dean’s eyes searching Meg’s, begging her to be honest with him.

A faint tired grin plays on her lovely, pale face. “I think getting fucked into oblivion would be exactly what he needs.  Have fun.  Make sure the door is shut; I don’t want to hear it.”

Dean nods his head, watching her trudge up the stairs. He couldn’t imagine their life without her.  She is more than Sam’s nurse; she is the family caretaker.  “Night Meg, you know we will be down there for hours if Mr. Wonderful wants to stop by.”

The nurse releases a simple giggle, “Oh Dean that would be awkward.” She turns at the top of the stairs before heading left to her wing. “I’m still not telling you, Dean, and no, Sam doesn’t know either.”

“But he does exist!” Is all Dean can yell to her back as she disappears down the hallway.

Dean rises, making his way up the stairs as well, turning right towards his bedroom. A mantra is building in his thoughts as he walks, “Be the master, be the master.”

 He opens the door gradually, being as quiet as humanly possible. The room is completely black, but Dean can hear the sobs of a puppy.  Dean doesn’t say a word, he just strips all his clothes from his body, crawling up Sam’s body to lie on top of the pile.  He places a chaste kiss on his sweet boy’s temple while using the back of his hand to wipe away the tears.

Large, strong, powerful arms surround the master as his lover exclaims, “You’re home!”

Dean kisses those soft lips dripping of salt. “Of course.  I was thinking we both need to take our minds of things don’t you?”

Sam sits up, shaking his head vigorously in agreement. “Yes, can we go to the basement?”

The master can’t help but erupt in laughter. “Great minds think alike, my darling boy.”

The two men don’t even dress as they make their way down to their own, personal play room. Dean, taking his puppy’s hand, guiding him towards the bottom level of their home.  Once they open the tight, soundproof door, the gorgeous hazel-brown eyes are sparkling with excitement.  “Against the wall Sammy, ass out.”

The red, white, and black themed play room is fitted with hooks that move around the entire space giving Dean several possibilities for scenes. In one corner is several glass shelves to house all their toys, with a king size bed in the center of the room.  The sheets are black silk with several white silk pillows thrown on top; a fluffy blanket hides underneath for aftercare.  Dean adjusts two grappling hooks just a few feet from the wall, which Sam is facing, who is practically vibrating with desire.  “Step back baby, hands in the air.”

Over time since Giddings, Dean has discovered that Sam still enjoys being strung up, but only by Dean’s neckties. According to Sam, it’s different because it’s a piece of Dean touching him.  The master has spent over a grand in new ties, just for his sweet boy.  He uses two navy blue ones to restrain his puppy from the ceiling.  Dean ghosts his fingers over the scars on Sammy’s back, placing tender kisses to each one.  The marks are a terrifying reminder that Dean can never put his guard down when it comes to his family.

Dean strides over to the glass cabinets, removing a wooden paddle and a white silk blindfold from the shelf. One new rule that they have adapted over the weeks is that Dean never introduces a toy without showing it to Sam for approval.  It does take away some of the anticipation and surprise of the moment, but Dean needs Sam’s full consent from now on.  The master enters his puppy’s space, standing just to the side of Sam.  He holds up the toys, gazing into those gorgeous hazel-brown beauties.  A smile slips across his sweet boy’s face as he whispers, “Yes, be rough.”

There is only a nod of agreement from Dean before he covers the puppy’s eyes. Dean lays the paddle on the red and white, rubber lined floor.  He then heads back to the shelves to procure a small bottle of scented body oil.  This specific one is scented with lavender, and always helps Sam to relax.  Pouring a small amount into his hands, Dean starts with his sweet boy’s calves, stroking them harshly, kneading the muscle with all his strength.  Gradually, taking his time with every piece of gorgeous skin, he works his way up his lover’s magnificent body.  He spends a great deal of time stroking his ass cheeks before moving upward.  Sam is whimpering with soft moans as he leans into his master’s touch.  He is completely loose and relaxed, letting the bindings hold him from above his head. 

Dean kneels down in front of Sam, tucking himself between his gentle giant and the wall. He starts with more oil, messaging Sam’s abs and pecks, watching as the man becomes putty in his hands.  Then he slowly works his hands south to Sam’s crotch.  After reaching the tasty location, Dean strokes his lover’s shaft, taking his cock into the master’s mouth.  There is a soft ebb and flow of Dean’s gentle stroke, up with his hand mouth sliding down after.  Suddenly, with his free hand, Dean grasps the paddle striking Sam across the ass cheek, quick and hard.  Sam cries out as Dean returns to the pattern on sucking the puppy’s dick.  Two more passes with his mouth and smack with paddle, and then three passes before smack.  The hits are swift and painful, leaving bright red marks on Sam’s beautiful ass.  It is only a few more passes before Dean’s throat is filling with the thick, salty cum of his Sammy as the puppy shouts his name, “Dean!”

The master stands, stopping to kiss his sweet boy, savoring the mix of saliva and cum on his tongue. He moves behind his sweet boy, pouring some of the scented oil onto his fingers.  Dean penetrates his lover’s hole with one hand as he strikes him with the other.  Again he begins a pattern of fingers and paddling until he can hear his Sammy crying out in pleasure.  Rubbing his own cock with the oil, Dean thrusts deep into his Sam.  He unhurriedly plunges in and out, rolling his hips deep into his sweet boy’s ass while littering his shoulders and neck with kisses.  Over time the master builds his pace, thrusting harder and deeper into that delicious hole.  Dean seizes Sam’s chest as he is struck with an overpowering orgasm, spilling his seed into his giant.

Dean frees Sam’s wrists, tugging him to the bed, dribbling oil over the red marked skin. He messages the erupting bruises, finishing with soft kisses.  “Dean just cuddles, please.”

The master leans down retrieving the fluffy white blanket, surrounding his sweet boy in supple softness. Then Dean envelops himself over Sam, singing him praises, “Good boy, my boy, my sweet, sweet Sammy.”

The two lovers fall asleep completely, spent by the day’s emotional toll.

****

 The next morning, Dean has no idea of the time when he finally releases his puppy from his tight hold.  Sam is still sound asleep, so Dean gently removes himself from the play room bed, leaving the door wide open.  He doesn’t even think to put on clothes because Meg has seen the two of them naked more times than he can count.  He breezes through the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water on his way to the shower.  Dean is lost in his own thoughts when he realizes he is not alone on the stairs.  He raises his eyes expecting to tease Meg, when he sees stunning blue eyes.

With a look of surprise Dean exclaims, "Cas, What the fuck are you doing in my house?"

The other man just cocks his head to the side with a perplexed look.  “Dean, why are you wandering through the house naked with a lady present?”

Dean scans the house mentally, “What lady?” Then all the puzzle pieces fall together.  “You like girls?”

Castiel rolls his eyes violently. “Dean you _know_ that I am bisexual.  Can I go home now?”

From the top of the stairs Dean hears, “Mother Fucking Hell, Clarence I told you to leave sooner.”


	41. Chapter 41

The next few weeks seem to be a blur to Sam as he tries, with all his might, to keep a positive attitude for Gwen. The gentle giant spends his day hours at the hospital, helping his sister pass the time.  Then around 8pm he leaves, heading to his home with Dean.  The new house has been in a state of reconstruction ever since they took possession.  The first task was to finish the basement play room, and then all the space on the first floor.  Finally, a week ago, the focus began on the nursery.  If Sam is being truly honest with himself, he has been avoiding that room specifically. 

His fiancé has to work late, so that is how Sam finds himself sitting in the middle of Mary Jo’s bedroom. The walls have been painted a pale, pastel yellow, with varying sizes of pink butterflies spread over all four walls.  The curtains are white with little yellow and pink butterflies peeking out from the folds.  Her furniture is bright white, tucked to the walls, leaving the center of the room open for play.  The dark hardwood floors are a stark contrast to the rest of the room.  Sam is sitting on a new shag rug that matches the pink butterflies on the walls.  The father-to-be sits on the floor, just staring at the room.  He knows that he still needs a recliner for feedings, and two more lamps to finish the room, but he just sits, willing the butterflies to be free into the air.

Today was a rough day for Gwen. Her body is gradually fading away from the stress of the pregnancy, but she refuses to have a C-section.  They put an oxygen mask on her to help alleviate some of the issues associated with her failing heart.  Sam worries that she will push herself to the grave, but there is nothing to be done.  She made a choice to make it to 34 weeks.  Tomorrow will mark 33 weeks and four days so three days after that and maybe, just maybe, everyone will come out of this unscathed. 

Sam hears a knock at the nursery door as Meg enters, a struggling smile forced onto her face. He knows she puts on a brave face for him, and he appreciates it; however, he is not oblivious to the late night crying sessions, only saved by Castiel’s arrival.  Most people would find it odd to have your fiancé’s ex-lover coming and going at all hours, but Sam doesn’t think much about it.  There is no question in his mind that Dean is his now, and forever.  Lately, there are very few things that Sam is certain about, but this one he has no doubts.  Dean loves him.  Dean will marry him the last Saturday of June, and his master will always put their family first. 

“Cas coming over soon?”

Meg just nods her head as she sits next to the giant on the overgrown, fluffy pink carpet. “Yes.  He has to work late, but hopefully by ten he will be here.  When is El Master going to bless us with his presence?”

Sam rolls his eyes. Nurse Master’s has not appreciated Dean working long hours over the past few weeks, but it was necessary.  If he is going to be home for a week or two after her birth then he needs to be caught up.  “Probably by ten.  Let’s try and get the recliner and lamps tomorrow.”

Nurse Master’s leans into Sam’s shoulder, closing her eyes. “Whatever you want, Sam.”

The two rest silently in the baby’s room for quite some time before Sam decides to finally ask the question that has been plaguing him for a while. “If things keep getting serious between you and Castiel, do you think you will move out?”  Sam says this with a deep sigh, his shoulders slumping even lower than normal.

Meg wraps her tiny arms around Sam’s bicep. “No, this is my home.  Can’t get rid of me that easily.”

The two friends giggle in unison the sound filling the quiet house.

****

Sam wakes to the song “Be My Baby” playing in their bedroom. Dean stirs first, jumping from the bed to answer his phone.  It takes a moment before the cobwebs clear.  Sam waits with nervous anticipation as he intently listens to the conversation.

“Dr. Gabriel, what’s going on?”

Dean nods several times merely grunting in response to the doctor’s comments. “Okay, make the call we will be there in thirty minutes.  Yes, see you then.”

 Sam is desperate for information, his hazel-brown eyes searching Dean for a clue.  “Is Gwen okay?”

The master sits down, pulling Sam into his lap stroking his back. “Sam, she’s gone into cardiac arrest.  They were able to revive her, but we have hit the end of the line for the pregnancy.  Mary Jo is coming today, and we just need to stay positive.”

The two men hold each other in a tight embrace for several long minutes before Dean lifts Sam, placing his lanky body on the mattress. “Sam, go wake up Meg, and I assume Cas, too.  They may want to come with us, but its four in the morning so don’t push it, okay?”

Sam shakes his head yes as he first goes into his closet to grab some jeans and a t-shirt. Then he’s banging on Meg’s door.  “Wake up, Meg.”

Meg’s hair looks like a birds nest, tussles of dark curls everywhere. She’s holding a sheet around her pale figure.  “I’m up, are you okay?”

“Mary Jo is being delivered today, we are headed to the hospital in ten minutes.”

The nurse steps forward giving the gentle giant a warm hug before backing away. “Wait for me.”  Suddenly a pair of dark men’s suit pants hits her in the head causing her to look behind the door.  “Fine.  Wait for us.”

****

The ride to the hospital was filled with uncomfortable silence. However, in a weird way, they as a family, worked.  Dean and Cas park the car while Sam and Meg dash to the maternity ward for a clearer picture of what’s happening.

Dr. Gabriel is standing at the nurse’s station when they enter. “How is she?”

The doctor takes a deep breath, preparing for his long speech, “Sam, she is not doing well. At 3:45am her heart stopped.  They were able to resuscitate her, but this is like putting a band aid on a gunshot wound.  It only keeps the obvious issues at bay.  We have no idea what will happen in the operating room.  I need you to prepare for the worst.  The nurses are prepping her now.  You will need to sit in the waiting room.  I will send out a nurse with any updates.  If you will excuse me.”

  Sam’s eyes are frozen as he watches Gabriel walk through the double doors leading to the ORs.  Meg takes his hand into hers, leading the giant over to the rows of black leather chairs, facing an old tube TV set to the Hispanic channel.  “Sit Sam.  I’m going to get you some water and maybe a snack.”

The next few hours seem to pass, but Sam barely notices. He keeps staring at the old television set wondering why he never learned Spanish.  It seems off that someone raised in Texas has such limited vocabulary in such a widely used language.  At some point, Dean arrives, sitting next to him in the uncomfortable hospital chairs, holding his hand, whispering loving things in his ear.  Sam wishes he could respond, but nothing seems to be sinking in, it’s just a blur.  He observes from a far as Castiel slips his hand over Meg’s, patting it lightly before moving it.  Sam wonders if this is for Dean’s benefit, or Meg’s; she doesn’t seem that keen on public displays of affection. 

In the end, Sam just wants it to be over. He wants Dr. Gabriel to come and tell them the score, who is alive and who died.  It seems cruel, but he just wants an ending to all this pain.  The other people come and go like this is just another day.  Perhaps to them it is, but not to Sam.  This particular day, March 15th , will sit with the giant for the rest of his life, good or bad he will never forget the ides of March.

Dean’s head turns first as he rises, holding Sam’s hand tightly. He simply follows his master’s path as they approach Dr. Gabriel.  Sam’s mouth is so dry he can’t find his voice.  His eyes look to Dean, pleading for him to take over.

“Give it to us straight. Good or bad, no sugar coating it.”

The doctor nods his head, removing his surgical cap. “Mary Jo is in the neonatal intensive care unit.  Her lungs are slightly underdeveloped, even with the steroids.  She has shown signs of withdrawal, but we knew from the beginning that would be an issue. She is a strong little munchkin, and I like her odds.  You can visit her in a couple hours, once they have her situated.”

Dean squeezes Sam’s hand. A faint smile on his face.  Their daughter is alive and fighting; things are good but there is still one more.  The master returns his gaze to the doctor.  “And Gwen?”

Gabriel’s breath is slow and focused, like he’s reciting a speech. “Her heart gave out twice during the C-section.  We were able to shock her back the first time, once we had Mary Jo out, but the second time was unsuccessful.”  The doctor places his hand on the giant’s shoulder patting softly.  “I am sorry for your loss, Sam.  She was a lovely woman.”

Sam thought he would cry. In his mind, all these weeks, he envisioned himself sobbing and screaming over the death of his sister.  Yet, his face is dry, his mouth is a desert.  There is just numbness.  The girl who was with him since the beginning.  His playmate, his confidant, the only person to love him no matter what his entire life, is gone and Sam feels nothing.  He is suddenly aware that Dean is yelling.  Why?  Who is Dean screaming at in a hospital?  Sam wants to tell him it is okay, not to worry, but his voice vanishes with the missing tears.

The sweet boy who only wanted a family, sees the world in slow motion as Dean shrieks at someone. But Sam can’t make out the words.  Who is Dean yelling at, who would upset his master?  The world around Sam is spinning; everything is moving round and round, yet Sam remains silent and numb.  He can’t hear the calls of his name.  He doesn’t feel the many arms surrounding him, trying to catch his fall. 

Shadows begin creeping into his view, making it hard to see.  He attempts to focus on his beloved’s emerald green eyes, but the darkness is taking him.  Sam is suddenly horizontal, his legs having crumpled under his weight.  The last thing to howl from his mind before it all goes black.  “I love you.”


	42. Chapter 42

Dean hates running late (especially to the hospital), but it’s just been one of those days. He had a 4am call with Tokyo about Demon Hunter distributions.  It should have lasted only thirty minutes, giving Dean plenty of time to make it for Mary Jo’s 6 am feeding.  But now its 5:45am and he is finally able to leave the house.  He cruises by their bed, planting a quick kiss to his puppy’s forehead.  “Bye Babe, I’m off to the hospital.”

The master gets a sleepy grunt in reply as his Sammy tucks deeper under the covers. His only saving grace is that Dallas traffic doesn’t wake up till after 6:30, so he can at least try.  The Aston Martin hugs every corner as Dean speeds the twenty minute drive to his princess.  Mary Jo has been in the NICU for three weeks now and everyone has fallen into a routine.  Dean takes the early morning, arriving late to work once Sam shows up.  Ellen, Charlie, or even Anna usually takes the evening. His Mom takes most late evenings, then Meg takes the night shift.  Castiel is the family pinch hitter- filling in the gaps when schedules don’t quite match up.  However, there is one rule they all live by: Mary Jo is never alone.

Her little life has been rough from day one. First and foremost, the loss of her mother (which may not be something Mary Jo notices now but Dean thinks she does).  She detoxed for ten days which were the longest of both her Father’s lives.  The high pitched screams were terrifying for anyone and it meant that they all took shorter shifts, but now it seems there is calm after the storm.  His sweet princess is finishing her bottles, gaining weight and the crying is now limited to actual needs instead of every second.  The one major concern that has not dissipated is her left eye and left arm.  It’s too early to tell but she doesn’t attempt to move the arm and her eye is not following like her right.  The doctors can’t give Dean and Sam answers, but the worst case scenario is brain damage meaning she won’t be able to use either. 

Sam cried for an hour after the frightening conference with the neonatologist and the neurologist but Dean had one question for him. “Will we love her any less?”

His sweet puppy just shook his head no, realizing that in the end it doesn’t matter. The NICU nurses have been showing Sam and Meg exercises that can at least help.  Dean thinks it’s more about giving Sam hope, but he smiles and follows the instructions all the same.

Dean gets dirty looks from several staff members as he makes a mad dash for her little room. Mary Jo has a private suite at the end of the ward with a huge window overlooking the Dallas skyline.  Sam picked it weeks ago when they knew she would have to stay at least a month.  The sterile hospital room has been decorated with everything pink.  There are pink streamers, pink balloons, a pink throw rug, and a little pink ipod speaker that plays classical music 24/7.  The nurses tried to fight it at first, but Dean helped them come around when he had a brand new espresso machine delivered to their lounge. 

He checks his watch while washing his hands and slipping the gown over his street clothes acknowledging that at 6:10 Meg has already started Mary Jo’s feeding, but as he cracks the door open he sees a man with dark wavy hair rocking his sweet girl while she enjoys her milk. Dean stalks into the room with a slight surprise look on his face.  “Hey Cas I thought Meg had the night shift?”

A set of stunning blue eyes glance up at Dean. A kind smile creases his face as he sits in the pink rocking chair, “She did but she needed to rush home so I get to feed this little angel.”

Dean desperately wants to switch places with Castiel but with all Mary Jo’s tubes and wires it’s very difficult to move her. The proud papa perches on the edge of an overstuffed crème leather sofa and just glances at his princess. Her eyes are shut.  The only sound is faint Mozart in the background, the ebb and flow of her ventilator and the soft suckles of a feeding babe.  The master never thought he could love anyone even close to what he feels for Sam, but this sweet child enthralls his soul. 

The first time he got to actually hold her was a game changer for Dean. The NICU nurse placed his sweet girl into his arms she was so tiny he could hold her with one hand like a football.  That was the moment he fell madly in love with the most beautiful child in the world.  Mary Jo’s skin is a pale white with a whisper of dark brown hair.  Her eyes are still blue but Dean is hoping they change to match Sam’s.  What really knocks Dean on his ass is her smell.  The intoxicating scent of a newborn baby fills his nostrils with every sniff.

Dean leans back knowing his turn will come soon enough. “Why did Meg need to head home?  She’s not sick is she?”

Cas chuckles a little, “No, she needed to change her scrubs. You don’t need to worry Dean.”

“They have scrubs here what’s the big deal?”

The other man lifts his eyes to meet Dean’s gaze, “If you must know she started her period and needed to shower.”

“Ugh, I so did not want to know that.” Dean exaggerates a shiver while scrunching up his face in disgust.  “Seriously Cas how do you deal with that?”

“Just part of the package Dean, what do you think happens in 13 years to this princess?”

His face still puckered, Dean takes a second before responding, “Meg. She gets to take that one or my Mom, Charlie or even Sam but nope Mary Jo will always be this tiny little girl to me.”

Castiel simply nods his head allowing Dean to live in his fantasy. Then something occurs to Dean, “Thank you Cas.”

The man’s eyes stay locked on Mary Jo, “I should be thanking you Dean.”

“For what?”

A deep sigh leaves Cas’s shoulders sagging. “Allowing me back into your life, for sending Meg to Chicago, and for letting me have a place in Mary Jo’s life.”  When Cas finally lifts his face to look at Dean there are tears, “Thank you for being my friend.”

A faint smile lifts Dean’s face, “Castiel I was always your friend, but now we are family.”

****

It was a little after ten when Sam saunters into Mary Jo’s room rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Rough night Sammy.”

His puppy winks with a wicked grin, “You would know Dean my ass is still sore.”

Dean cackles softly trying not to wake his sleeping daughter. Sam gives Dean a loving extended kiss on the lips before bending deeper to kiss Mary Jo taking a deep whiff of her head.  Clearly Dean isn’t the only one who is addicted.  Sam slouches into the couch drumming his fingers on the arm rest. 

“What are you fussing over?” The twitch in his puppy’s eye is a dead giveaway.

“The Perot museum called and had to cancel our original plans for the wedding. I think they realized it wasn’t a ‘traditional’ wedding.  We still need a place?  Like I know we agreed no churches or cheesy hotel ballrooms but then where?”

“We could rent out the Rode House for the day. Maybe even spend the night in heaven?”  Dean is dead serious and Sam knows it.

“You want to marry me in a BDSM night club? I was thinking like a park or something.”  Sam rubs the scruff on his face deep in thought.

“We could do it on a Monday night. Set up the second floor. I promise you Ellen will be on board.”  Dean glances down as Mary Jo grunts filling her diaper.  The new Dad just grins as he carefully moves her to the incubator putting down her changing mat first. 

“Just because it’s an easy fix doesn’t mean it will work Dean.” The indignant sigh in his words stings Dean a little.

He finishes strapping the fresh diaper on before putting Mary Jo up on his shoulder. “It has nothing to do with ease Sammy.  That second floor bar is the first time I saw you.  The first time we touched and the moment I fell in love with you.  That’s why it’s perfect.”

Sam’s eyes glaze over as those first moments play like a video in his mind. His sweet boy rises from the couch strolling over to Dean and kissing him gently on the mouth.  “You are right.  But I get to do all the planning.”

Dean laughs as he passes his princess over to Sam. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The gentle giant cups their daughter in his large palm tucking her into his chest. Her tiny head tilting to the exact spot of their matching tattoos.  Dean rests his hand just above her scalp so he can feel the strong heartbeats that consume their daughter’s ears.  The small family of three stands in the pink room, rocking in unison to the sound of their lives intertwining forever.

 Sam’s the first to disrupt the peaceful silence, “We need to decide on names.  We both can’t be Daddy.”

The master takes a few moments before opening his eyes, “Okay so Sammy do you want to wrestle or something because I’m dying for Daddy?”

A giggling grin escapes his puppy’s sweet face, “Then what can she call me?”

He leans his forehead to Sam’s coasting his lips over his giant’s chin. “Papa, I think Mary Jo should call you Papa.”

Sammy rolls the word over and over his tongue, “Papa, Papa, Papa. I think we have a winner.”

Dean knows he should hurry off to the office but he doesn’t. He spends the next hour watching Sam with their beautiful princess.  Tears of joy drip off his nose, and a slap happy smile spreads across his face.  This is his world.  The master’s heart is brimming with love.  The sound of the ventilator should fill him with sadness but he is looking at the sun and the moon orbiting around him and there is no gray. 


	43. Chapter 43

Seven days later Dean is circling the hospital parking lot in his new black Range Rover. The car seat sits in the back waiting for the princess to take her throne.  Today is the day that Mary Jo comes home.  Sam and Meg are finalizing check out while Dean searches frantically for the patient pick up bay.  He is over- whelmed by so many emotions at once he is finding it difficult to breathe; terror, excitement, terror, love, terror, hope, terror and peace. 

This is it tonight his daughter will be at home in her little basinet next to Sam’s side of the bed. Both new Dad’s decided that leaving her in a bedroom all alone would just be too scary.  Meg laughed at them till she realized this means no late night feedings for her, so she quickly helped to set up the new sleeping arrangement.

Dean spots the drive pulling up to the curb as he sees Sam approaching the car extremely slow his arms full of a baby carrier that is overflowing with pink blankets. The master dashes around the SUV to open the back door taking Sammy’s elbow guiding him up and into the seat.  His puppy latches the carrier into the base and checks it three times before turning to Dean who then checks it a fourth time before returning to the driver’s seat.  Meg climbs into the front passenger side turning to Dean as he puts the key into the ignition.  “Sweet ride did you buy this just for her?”

“Of course, anyone taking Mary Jo anywhere takes her in this vehicle. Understood?”

The cackle that erupts from Nurse Master’s throat is loud filling the peaceful vehicle. “Jesus Dean! She’s a month old and you bought her an SUV.”  She scans the new vehicle noticing that it has every bell and whistle imaginable.  “How much did you spend on this thing?”

The new father is traveling 20 miles an hour his eyes completely focused on the road. “Just under 100,000.”

Meg whistles swiveling her head to Sam. “And you approve of this?”

Sam has his arms wrapped around the carrier with some vain belief of warding off any evils with his brawny muscles. He glances up at Meg, “I picked it out.  Like we were going to squeeze her in the back of the Aston Martin?”

****

The goal for the past three days has been to get Mary Jo to sleep in her bassinet.   Unfortunately the little darling had become accustomed to being in someone’s arms 24/7.  The nurses warned Sam and Dean about always holding her.   The princess was never put down and now they are paying the price- because its 3am and Sam is pacing the bedroom trying to get Mary Jo asleep with the expectation of transferring her to the baby bed.

Dean cracks open an eye, “Sammy you are going to burn a hole in the rug. Do you want me to take her downstairs for a while so you can sleep?”

If mere eye rolls could kill a person Dean would have stopped breathing then and there. “No.”  A deep sigh full of irritation escapes his sweet boy’s lips.  “You are just going to take her downstairs sit in the recliner and watch a movie.  Then you will wake up Meg. Who is going to do the exact same thing and Mary Jo gets another night of not learning how to sleep on her own.”

He sits up because falling back asleep is just going to anger the puppy. “True, but then we all get some shut eye. We can try the bassinet thing tomorrow.”

“Dean!” Sam’s voice is just above a whisper but his tone is harsh.  “You go back to work next week.  I need her on a sleep schedule for my own sanity.  Go back to sleep I’ve got this and you can let me sleep in the morning.”

It’s to fucking early for a logical discussion, so Dean crashes back down on his pillow. He muffles though the fabric, “Good luck Sammy.”

****

It’s bright in the bedroom as the sun rose hours ago yet no one woke Dean. This can mean two things; 1) Sam gave up and passed Mary Jo to Meg, or 2) his sweet boy actually got princess to sleep in her bassinet last night.

Dean rolls over to face Sam’s side of the bedroom when he has to bite his lip to keep from laughing. There seemed to be an option three.  Lying in bed was his beautiful puppy snoring away and in the crutch of his elbow: a princess slept.  He gets up making sure to move the bed as little as possible before heading to the bathroom for a quick shower. 

Once he’s clean and in a t-shirt and jeans for the day, Dean procures sleeping beauty from the giant- letting him rest. His daughter stirs batting her beautiful lashes at him.  He observes her eyes seem darker today which gives him hope of hazel-brown beauties times two.  Dean puts her face to his watching as she tracks him with her right eye, the left still lazy and lost.  He kisses her cheek whispering, “Good morning beautiful.”

After a desperately needed diaper change; it’s time for a bottle. The house is silent.  He peeks into Meg’s room and finds the nurse curled up under a dirty trench coat; sound asleep.  One day Dean is going to have to ask Castiel if he has more than one.  When he reaches the first floor, Dean glances out the window noting that at least Cas went to work today.  Sam keeps trying to get up the nerve to ask Meg if lover boy is actually living with them now, but he never does and honestly Dean doesn’t really care.  The house has plenty of room for everyone and if Cas is here then Meg stays so- glee for all.

Dean is in the process of making a bottle for Mary Jo when there is a quiet rap on the front door. It’s just after ten so he’s in a state of confusion as he opens the front door.  The scent of whiskey and cigars blows into his nostrils as Dean smiles, “Hey Ellen what are you doing here?”

“I’ve got an hour to kill before work and I haven’t seen Lefty in days.”

The new Dad steps aside to let her pass, following her into the kitchen. “Please don’t call her that it drives Sam crazy.”

“Dean is her left side any better?” Ellen asks as she drops her coat on a chair and proceeds to wash her hands.

“No, but calling her Lefty isn’t going to help.” Once he’s happy with her clean hands, he passes Mary Jo over handing Ellen the bottle.

She crosses to the den perching on the edge of the couch to feed his sweet girl. “Yes it will Dean.  Kids are fucking cruel, but if we make it no big deal then there’s nothing for them to attack.”

“I’m too tired for logic.” Dean collapses onto the recliner rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms.  “How are things at the club?”

“Same ole same ole, tell Sam I’ve got the last Monday in June completely booked for your wedding. We will shut down early on Sunday to start prep.  How in the world did you get him to agree?”

“All of our firsts happened in that building; seemed appropriate in the end. Just let Sam have whatever he wants and send me the bill.”  Dean nestles down into the recliner listening to Ellen chat away at his daughter.  At some point he must have drifted off because the next thing he knows someone is wrapping him on the head.  “Woah! Is that necessary?”

He sits up just in time to be handed a sleeping baby. He inhales deeply finding the lingering aroma of cigars left on his precious bundle.  “Okay Dean. I’m off. Thanks for the hit of baby.”

Dean is shaking himself awake softly trying not to jostle Mary Jo in the process. “Thanks for stopping by Ellen. Talk to you soon.”

The borage of whiskey and smoke gets stronger as Ellen leans into his ear, “Happiness looks good on you Dean.” She sweeps a quick kiss to his temple before heading out the front door.

A grin plays across the master’s lips as he thinks about her parting words. Dean’s life has done a complete 180 since meeting Sam and he wouldn’t have it any other way.


	44. Chapter 44

It was the first week of June and the wedding was descending upon the house like a swarm of bees. Sam was in a constant state of anxiety trying to get every detail just right.  This left Meg completely in charge of Mary Jo’s hectic schedule, which was filled with physical therapy sessions, doctor’s visits, and just general care.  It was her job and Meg did it without question, but the result was a very cranky baby nurse.  Then of course Demon Hunter was unveiling a new game on the 15th of June, so Dean’s work world was swamped.  The entire house was breeding stress and poor Castiel just tried to do what he could to help out.

Thursday morning Dean is sitting at the breakfast bar drinking his coffee when Castiel enters, sitting down next to the CEO. “You and Sam need a date night.”

Dean is squinting his eyes in confusion as he turns to stare at his friend. “What?”

Cas sighs deeply, “You and Sam have been running at max capacity for weeks. Between the new game, your wedding, and Mary Jo’s health issues, you guys are running on empty.  I suggest a date night tomorrow.”

The master takes a sip of coffee pondering the idea. “Is Meg on board with babysitting duty?”

“Um no, I thought we would have an evening at the Rode House.”

Dean almost chokes on his coffee with surprise, “You want all four of us to go out at the same time?”

Castiel is shaking his head yes, but Dean is waiting for the just kidding line. “I spoke with your Mom and Garth last night.  They would be happy to babysit.  I think you have said they are perfectly qualified for the job, especially if one of them is packing at all times.”

“But that would mean nobody that knows her regular schedule will be here. I don’t think Sam is ready for that Cas.”

The other man cracks a grin while trying to stifle a giggle. “You don’t think Sam is ready??  Dean I think it best that we all go out and have a relaxing romantic evening with our significant other.  Just plan something simple that you can leave at a moment’s notice, like dinner and a movie.”

He catches a large giant hiding in the doorway, holding their sweet princess. “Are you on board with this, Sam?”

His sweet puppy comes into the room, nudging Dean’s shoulder with his hip. All bets are off when Sam glances at Dean with pleading hazel-brown eyes and whispers, “Please.”

****

 They decide on dinner and a movie.  It’s easy, requires no planning on anyone’s part, and can be dropped the second Mary Jo needs them.  Dinner ends up being steak and beer at Bob’s Steakhouse, a Dallas icon for everything beef.  The food was amazing and Dean enjoyed having Sam all to himself.  Of course, they spent the entire meal discussing the wedding and Mary Jo, but it was still very peaceful.  Next they decided on the new Marvel movie.  It is perfect, full of action and humor with no real emotional investment.  However, clearly the two men were beyond exhaustion as Dean is woken by a theater employee.

The lights are up and his sweet boy is out cold drooling on his shoulder. Dean looks up at the young man noticing they are the only patrons left and the staff is cleaning.  “Sorry about that, buddy.”

“No problem, sir. Enjoy your evening.”

Dean turns to Sam, bouncing his shoulder, “Hey Sam, wake up.”

Through a deep sleep haze Sammy mumbles, “Is it over?”

The master kisses his sweet prince on the forehead before rising to his feet. “Yup, I’m pretty sure we just paid thirty bucks to take a nap.”

He pulls Sammy to his feet and guides him out to the Chevy Impala. They took Sam’s car because lately, the poor vehicle doesn’t get out enough either.  Dean drives the Aston Martin and lately, if Sam leaves the house, he drives the SUV.

Dean leans his Sam against the side of the car, pushing into the large man’s torso. This wakes up his gentle giant real fast as their lips touch softly, then deeper and harder with every pass of the tongue.  It is only broken when a car drives by honking at them repeatedly.  The master shoots the bird at them before unlocking the door, easing his lover into the passenger seat.  “I think we should head home, but not go in, I have an idea.”

A sly smile touches his sweet boy's face as he nods his head vigorously in agreement. Once in the driver’s seat, Dean floors the gas pedal, listening as the 1967 Chevy Impala roars to life.  The car makes it home in record time as Dean pulls into the garage lowering the door behind them.  He cuts off the engine and rotates to face Sam.  “Open the glove box.”

His sweet boy hastily obeys as he reaches in retrieving two of Dean’s neckties, a ball gag, and lube. Sam is so enthralled with the toys he is almost jumping with excitement.  The giant hands over the supplies, looking to his master for the next command, “Strip down completely naked and climb into the back seat.”

Sam moves at lightning speed, almost kicking Dean in head as he dives to the back seat. The master moves slowly, taking his time removing his clothes.  His kind puppy is vibrating with desire but Dean cackles quietly as he continues his snail’s pace.  Finally, when every stitch of fabric is peeled away, Dean folds them, making a pile on the dash.  He loves watching Sam come undone with the mere anticipation of a coming scene.  “Okay, babe, lean forward and hand me the stuff.”

With a dark gleam in his eye, Puppy complies, pushing his hips into the leather of the front seat. Dean takes the ball gag first, carefully placing it in Sammy’s mouth and securing it at the back of his head.  “Sammy, what do you do if you want to safeword?”

There is the sound of snapping fingers filling the vehicle's cabin. Dean kisses Sam’s forehead as he strokes the long luscious brown locks, “Good boy.”

Dean stretches to the car door, unrolling the windows on both sides before tying a necktie to each side mirror. “Spread out your arms, Sammy.”

He trusses Sam up by each wrist, stretching those long arms tight, his puppy’s hips lying over the middle of the front seat. His gentle giant glances at Dean with a questioning look because currently he doesn’t have access to Sam’s lower (and very important) half.  After several kisses, littering Sam’s face with love, Dean scales Mount Puppy on his way to the back seat, taking the lube with him.  It’s a tight squeeze, but that’s entirely the point.

Once he turns around and takes in the beauty of his lover, Dean opens Sam’s ass cheeks wide so Dean can devour everything Sam. The muffled groans are loud and wanting encouraging Dean to go hard and longer with his tongue.  He runs it up and down, twirling through the rim making goose bumps spread over Sam like wildfire. 

Dean grabs the lube, dribbling the slick substance over his fingers. He pulls Sam’s hips towards the back so he can reach his sweet boy’s stiff, leaking cock.  The master begins with a slow, soft skim of his fingers over Sam’s shaft and one finger penetrating his hole.  Gradually over several drawn out minutes, Dean tightens his grip on the shaft while adding a second finger, scissoring the two digits deep within his lover.  Sam’s hips buck with delight over the quiet ascent into euphoria.  When Dean adds a third finger, his palm beats ferociously on Puppy’s dick simultaneously.  The master gets his sweet boy right up to the edge, but the second it looks like Sam is going to cum he cuffs the base of the shaft tightly, staving off the orgasm.  He slides over Sam’s back, putting all his weight onto the powerful back muscles.  Dean grins as Sam comes completely undone begging through the ball gag for release.  Kissing his turned up ear, Dean whispers, “Not yet Sammy, want to do this together.”

Grunting low and deep, Dean keeps a taught, handmade cock ring around Sam as the master thrusts his own dick deep inside of his lover. He has to wrap himself around Sam to keep his balance, but after a few plunges he finds a rhythm.  Due to the position, there is what feels like miles of skin on skin contact between Dean and Sam, and the sensation is glorious.  Every inch that connects is rubbing the two men into a friction frenzy as Dean builds up speed.  Dean liberates his grip on the base of Sam’s dick, pumping to match the thrusts of his rolling hips.  The two men climax as one, lost in the screams of true pleasure.

*****

The next morning Dean and Sam are lying in the soft green grass, the hot June sun beating down on them. His sweet boy has his head on Dean’s stomach, using him like a pillow.  The master has one hand under his own head and the other carding tenderly through those gorgeous locks.  A sweet princess resting on Sammy’s stomach giggling at Papa’s bouncing chest.  They have a rainbow umbrella over Mary Jo to give her shade and comfort.  This is their new routine on Saturdays.  They put Mary Jo in the jogging stroller, and run the two miles to the cemetery.  The little family spends about an hour just relaxing in the peace of the graveyard.

Dean scans the final resting place of his dear Ash before glancing at the new addition next door. They buried Gwen here next to Ash, allowing their family to be one.  There are those that will think the routine morbid, but to them this will always be a way of respecting those they have lost. 

Another aspect of the weekly routine is Sam telling Mary Jo a story about Gwen. His puppy speaks softly, almost like he is in a confessional.  Today’s story is about when Gwen taught Sam how to ride a bike, leading to Papa’s first broken arm.  Dean listens intently, letting his mind drift, looking to the heavens with fluffy white clouds above, peppering the sky with contrast of shades against the bright blue sky.   He knows his guardian angel is up there smiling down on him.  Dean shuts his eyes picturing Ash’s face in his mind as he mouths silently, “Thank you.”


	45. Chapter 45

Dean is reclining against the second floor bar of the Rode House. The jacket of his brand new Vera Wang Black tux tossed over the stool next to him.  A faint grin finds a place on his face as the master reminisces about the first time he met his Sammy.  He chuckles because that person who stood drinking his favorite beer, checking out the giant in front of him is a stranger now.  That man hid behind his solitary life locked away in the white tower, paying for sex, ignoring his emotions, trapped in a never ending cycle of mourning.  Dean followed Ash into the gray veil of death. Just passing the time until something, anything, killed him too.

Then, like the dawn of a summer morning, the pure rays of sunshine enveloped the master, making him whole. This is the life he dreamed of with Ash, but it’s the reality he has with Sam.  Dean swivels towards the bar to take a sip of his champagne from the Tiffany’s crystal flute when the half empty baby bottle next to it catches his eye.  This is Dean Smith now, champagne and baby formula, and he wouldn’t change a damn thing.

He takes a swig of bubbly before returning his gaze to the dance floor. Sam has outdone himself for their wedding.  The entire space is draped in red and white silk fabrics which play well off the onyx black walls and floor.  The black box stage is littered with red and white roses in black lacquer vases, except in the center where the two men said their “I do’s” only an hour ago.  The two best ladies, Meg and Charlie, were standing next to them as they exchanged personally written vows. Dean committed his to memory and may never forget the words:

_Sam, when I met you, I was lost in the dark. I tried everything I could to escape, but no matter how hard I ran, which turn I took, or how much money I had, I could never find the light.  The shadows enveloped me and I accepted my fate in the cold._

_You, my love, my Sammy, took my hand and guided me into the sunshine. The warmth of your rays gave me a new life.  You didn’t just give me a light at the end of the tunnel, you eradicated every touch of gray from my soul with your smile._

_I promise to spend the rest of my life devoted completely to you, my sweet boy. I will wake every morning thanking my lucky stars and the universe for letting me orbit the sun._

_I am yours as you are mine, forever._

Dean’s thumb rubs across the new titanium band on his left ring finger. He can feel the repeating Latin inscription embossed along the circle, vos mei semper.  It is the master and puppy’s promise to one another that will last from this life to the next.  You are mine forever.

Finally, his gaze falls on the dance floor and his family. Mary Jo is held tightly in Sam’s arms as he sweeps the room singing into her ear, Meg and Cas following as laughter falls from their lips.  “Everybody” by Ingrid Michaleson begins to drift from the speakers as Dean observes from afar.  The foursome cheer at the bright beat, twirling in circles tossing smiles and kisses to the world.

A tender smile that reaches Dean’s eyes, fills his face. He tilts his ear towards the music, taking in the lyrics.

_Happy is the heart that still feels pain_

_Darkness drains and light will come again_

_Swing open up your chest and let it in_

_Just let the love, love, love begin_

A familiar figure sidles up next to Dean, taking his hand into hers squeezing gently. “I have decided that this is now your theme song.”

Dean takes a deep breath as he kisses Charlie on the top of her head. “Why do I need a theme song?”

Laying her ear to his shoulder, “Everybody has a theme song, Dean. You should know and accept this as fact.”

He chuckles, “Well, I guess it’s a good choice.”

“Fuck yeah! Its perfect.  You have a house full of love.  Don’t think I haven’t noticed that Castiel sublet his apartment.”

The only answer he has is a quick shrug. “Seemed a waste.”

“When do you all leave?”

“The jet leaves tomorrow at 9am for South Beach. I’ve got a house rented on the water.  Mary Jo, Cas, Meg, and the physical therapist will stay in the main house and there is a guest house in the back for Sam and I.  It should make for a nice honeymoon.”

Dean twirls Charlie around, taking her into his arms for a long hug. “Thank you, Charlie, for everything.  You look gorgeous in your dress.”

Meg and Charlie have matching red, slinky, silk slip dresses. Sam let them choose, but they had to match, just like the master and his puppy in matching tuxedos.  Even Mary Jo wasn’t left out in her white, frilly dress because someone should be wearing white.

“Well, it was a beautiful ceremony. See you in seven days.”

He tracks her movements as she heads out the door, holding Anna’s hand, a slight cackle escaping his lips. As he scans the room, he spots his parents slow dancing.  Their eyes are locked on one another, every bit of skin brushing and touching as they move to the beat.  It always amazes Dean how time has never changed their love.  He can only hope that decades later he and Sam still enjoy being astray in the other’s touch.

Dean decides it’s time to take his puppy upstairs for play time. Ellen gave them the entire floor for the night.  The master has several scenarios planned, and they need to get started soon to finish by dawn.  He pushes off the bar, stalking his gorgeous prey.  Dean’s eyes burn into the skin of his husband, causing his Sammy to glance up with a sly grin. Sam doesn’t step towards the master instead he swings his hips, enjoying the view of Dean’s sultry approach.  Dean greets his husband with a chaste kiss before procuring their daughter into his own arms.  His sweet princess gazes up at him first with her right eye and then gradually with the left, taking Dean’s breathe away with those hazel-brown beauties.  There is hope that she will gain more strength over time.  Mary Jo giggles as Dean coos, “Daddy and Papa will be away for one night princess.  Be good for Aunt Meg and Uncle Cas.”  He kisses her on the cheek before passing her over to Meg.

Suddenly Dean’s attention falls to the first set of whiskey touched hazel eyes to kidnap his soul. The two men meet, their hips sliding together in a leisurely grind.  Dean’s hands interlacing into his lover’s, lost in a powerful stare.  The master isn’t sure if they are even moving to the music or their own desires.

Dean ghosts his lips over Sam’s, nipping at his lower lip, listening to his puppy growl. He frees his hand, lifting his thumb to Sam’s lips, which part, taking the digit slowly into the giant’s mouth.  Dean lets Sam suckle the pad with his tongue, watching as his pupils dilate.  The master licks his own dry lips, completely aroused by the sensation.  “What should we do now, Sammy?”

His sweet, beautiful boy leans in dragging his teeth over Dean’s ear lobe. In a breathy hushed tone his puppy replies, “Take me to heaven.”

A dark moan lifts from the master’s throat as he kisses Sam hard and rough, vigorously sucking his tongue. Once he finds the inner strength to break away, he growls, “I’m already there.”

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First a huge thank you to my brain twin heytheregreeneyes. This story would not exist without her mad editing skills and support. 
> 
> Second a massive thank you to all my readers. You are the reason we do this, so thank you.
> 
> Comments and kudos are my crack, so please feed the junkie. :)


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